As Rotten As The Wasteland
by glitzyoptics
Summary: Siblings Lisette and Orson O'Brien have traversed the Capital Wasteland their entire life. But when they accept work from a shady individual, Orson is gone and Lisette is on the verge of death. She then finds herself under the Brotherhood of Steel's care. She has a choice: join or be thrown out. Lisette has to find her place in the Brotherhood's ranks to one day find her brother.
1. Part 1: The Wastelander

**As Rotten As The Wasteland**

 _By: glitzyoptics_

 **PART I: THE WASTELANDER**

 _0754 Hours, April 10, 2280, Megaton_

Lisette O'Brien rose early from the bunkhouse when the confessor came from his house and down to the featured object of the town: the dormant bomb. He would approach the bomb, bow his head, speak something to himself before commencing his preachings. It was this town's morning rooster. For Lisette, she hadn't slept that night and was up long before the confessor had stirred in his own bed.

It wasn't long before the entire town of Megaton was awake and falling into their daily routines. The man outside the clinic greeted his brahmin with a pat on both of its heads, the Brass Lantern's owners prepared for their morning usuals and the old man who ran the water plant came out to smoke a cigarette.

Lisette and her older brother, Orson, had only been in Megaton for three days, however, most of that time was spent outside of the gates because the protectron was determined not to allow them entry. They slept outside the gates for a night, listening to the protectron drone on about the city they weren't allowed inside of. When that morning came, a man emerged from the gates. He was dark-skinned, had a full beard and a wide brimmed hat. He introduced himself as the sheriff of Megaton. He allowed them entry only if they agreed to continue on their way in a week. They agreed to his terms and Lisette and Orson had found themselves a temporary home.

The door to the bunkhouse opened and out came Orson. Despite their differences in age, many had commented on how similar the pair appeared. Both had jet black hair and cool eyes. Lisette didn't agree but rather thought that Orson resembled their father more than herself. Orson put on his red baseball cap and joined Lisette. "Morning, Lis," he said, "how'd you sleep?"

Lisette shrugged. "Not well."

Orson made a displeased noise and patted her back. "Hey, it'll be okay. We've got ourselves a place to sleep, access to food and we're safe. This is the best bargain we've gotten in months."

"Yeah but only for a week."

"It's better than sleeping out there," he gestured towards the tall gates of Megaton, "Lighten up, Lis. We're here to regather ourselves before we're off again to…" he paused, "wherever the road takes us." With that said, Orson began down to the Brass Lantern for breakfast. Lisette would join him in a few minutes. For the time being, she was stuck where she stood.

For a town that was primarily for Wastelanders, the residents of Megaton weren't too fond of permanent residents. It wouldn't be a bad place to live despite the looming bomb in the center of the town but they couldn't. Lisette had always wanted a place she could call her home. She and her brother had been traveling from settlement to town to city for years and her brother didn't seem bothered by it. Lisette, on the other hand, was desperate for a place to call home. The constant stress of wandering around with some ghastly creature breathing down your neck, eating maybe once a day and hardly getting sleep was an exhausting lifestyle. Orson sometimes called her a visionary and it was true. She imagined a better life and she desperately wanted it. She knew there had to be a place somewhere in this godforsaken world that wasn't desolate and grey. From reading pre-war books, she had gathered her perfect life. She imagined a beautiful farmhouse, shingles and siding, green shrubs and flowers. She hoped to one day find herself a husband and maybe even have children. But she knew deep down inside that her vision was only a vision and wouldn't ever happen.

After some time, Lisette wandered down to the Brass Lantern and took a seat next to her brother who was already eating a bowl of noodles. The woman behind the bar asked Lisette if she wanted anything and replied that a bowl of noodles was fine. The pair ate in silence.

The woman behind the bar finished with a man who had bought a few nuka colas and then she turned to the pair with a smile on her face. "Well, hi again. This isn't the first time I've seen you two here. I don't think I introduced myself. My name's Jenny Stahl. What's brought you two to Megaton?"

"We're just passing through. The sheriff's let us stay here for a week." Orson replied.

Jenny's face lit up with surprise. "Oh, he is? That's very kind of him. He is probably one of the nicest people here! Aside from myself but," she laughed and winked at Orson.

Orson returned the laugh and added, offering his hand, "My name's Orson."

She shook his hand. "Are you two related?"

"Yes, she's my sister." Orson nudged Lisette with his elbow.

Lisette offered her hand as well and introduced herself, "I'm Lisette."

Jenny shook her hand. "Nice to meet you two. You're one of the most pleasant groups to wander through here. We usually get nasty people who are looking for a place to eat, sleep, and… well, you know the rest."

They finished up their breakfast and decided that they would go up to the trader and see if they had any items the pair might need before they set out again. Between the two of them, they had around fifty caps. It was enough to buy them food but they desperately needed new weapons as well as some ammo. And maybe even some new clothes too. Lisette couldn't remember the last time she had changed out of the brahmin-hide clothing she wore.

On the highest level of Megaton, Orson and Lisette entered the Craterside Supply and they were greeted by the bright red-headed owner of the store. " _Hey_! Don't mind the smell! I was just testing a few chemicals. They're harmless, really! Let me know if I can do anything for you two."

The pair began to browse the selections of the store. Lisette found herself drawn to a shelf with folded clothing. She could use something new. Orson wandered over to the weapons and began looking through them, testing the weight of them in his hands.

Orson had managed to get his hands on a sawed-off shotgun and Lisette was pretty good with a 10mm. They were in lousy condition but anything was better than nothing. Lisette didn't fire the weapon much. She did most of the lockpicking and watching while Orson did most of the shooting.

After Lisette had chosen clothes that were in pretty good condition, she went to find Orson. She found him speaking to a man, a rough-looking mercenary from the looks of his armor. She approached them in mid-conversation and stood beside her brother.

"...retrieving items from people or locations, things like that. We're an organization that's trying to find a place in this wasteland for people who aren't tied to any affiliation. Bring power to the common wastelander."

"Sounds nice and all, but we're not looking to join any type of faction or group or anything. Thanks man." Orson said.

"I'm not saying you have to _join_ or anything. Just to help you get some caps, that's all. C'mon, I know it's hard out there and caps aren't easy to come by these days." The merc was persistent.

"I said thanks man, but we're _not_ interested."

The merc looked at Orson with narrow eyes. He gave his goodbyes and a tip of his head to Lisette as he exited the store. The store owner called to him on the way out, saying he could come back if he was willing to spend the caps.

"What was that?" Lisette asked.

Orson shook his head, expelling an annoyed breath. "I don't know, some merc trying to recruit us for some caps. I don't really trust guys like them."

"Well, what was he offering?" Lisette asked, genuinely curious. If a man comes up to them and offers work and caps then the least they can do it consider it.

Orson gave Lisette an incredulous look, "You're joking, Lis."

"If he's offering caps, the least you can do is listen."

"I _did_ listen and his offer doesn't ring well with me so I told him to get lost. Just because someone offers caps doesn't mean they're working for the right cause."

"Orson, you know we need caps…" Lisette reminded, "we're not exactly the most well off. Any caps from anyone sounds like a deal to me. And I feel like even if he was working for the wrong kind of people, he wouldn't have approached some straggly looking travelers."

Orson stared at her for a while, thinking about what she was saying. He grabbed a rifle off the shelf and pushed past Lisette. "We can talk about this later, maybe when we're not trying to do some shopping, okay?"

They paid for their items and left the shop to find the same merc outside of the store, smoking a cigarette. He eyed Orson and Lisette and they looked back at him. He shook his head and took a long draw from his cigarette. Orson approached the merc, slinging his new rifle across his back. "What kind of work are you offering again?"

The merc expelled a puff of smoke. "All kinds of work. Retrieving items from people, places, bounties, contracts. Anything you can think of. There isn't one type of work we do. We do pretty much everything you can imagine. What, are you suddenly interested now?"

"We're just trying to survive out here and caps speak volumes." Orson said.

A smile came across the merc's face and Lisette couldn't tell if it was a sneer or a smile. He shook out his cigarette and snuffed it out with his boot. "That's the kind of thinking that can take you places, Mister…?" he offered his hand for a shaking.

Orson stepped forward and took it. "O'Brien. Orson."

The merc looked at Lisette and offered his hand the same, "And you, ma'am?"

"Lisette." she shook his hand.

"If you two don't have any more business here in Megaton, we can start on our way." the merc said.

Orson looked at Lisette for approval and she said. "If you can give me a minute to change into these new clothes, we can meet you outside of Megaton when we're ready."

The merc gave charming smile. "Of course, Ms. O'Brien." With that said, he started for the large front gates of Megaton.

With the little the two had, they packed everything into their bags and met the merc outside of Megaton. The protectron wished them to come and visit Megaton again and the trio started into the wasteland, heading north.

"And where are we heading to exactly?" Orson asked.

"A place north of here, across the river. It's not far to walk."

 _1502 Hours, April 11, 2280, 3 km North of NW Seneca Station_

Star Paladin Barbara Connelly made her way through the Wasteland, laser rifle in her hands as her Mister Gutsy named Gladys, chattered behind her, "Ms. Connelly, it's an awfully pleasant afternoon today, isn't it? The temperature seems to be settling at a lovely eighty-five degrees fahrenheit and..."

Barbara ignored her; she was too focused on what was scrolling across her display. She was picking up some odd reading.

On days like these, she spent many hours scouring the Wasteland for remnants of Pre-War technology with Gladys by her side. The search for Pre-War technology was a fading normality for the Brotherhood of Steel. Their efforts as of the late had turned towards serving the public by ridding the Mutants of the Capital Wasteland. Barbara didn't complain if her beliefs didn't match the Brotherhood's because her voice wouldn't have been heard at any rate.

Gladys' radar sensors reached out farther than Barbara's did and she was baffled that Gladys didn't read the signature she was. "Gladys, what am I reading?" Barbara asked.

Gladys stopped her chattering and went silent for a moment. "I am not reading any signatures in the area."

Barbara transferred the readings to Gladys through their tech link. "Check again."

Gladys bleeped. " _Oh!_ " she exclaimed.

"You're going to need a diagnostic check when we get back to the Citadel." Barbara bit.

"Ms. Connelly, I assure you that I am functioning to my full potential and do not need a diagnostic check." Barbara would do it anyway. That was what Gladys said every time she needed one. But she would deal with that when they returned. Right now, she was more concerned with the odd reading. The only readings she could ever pick up were rogue bots and nothing more. But that wasn't the case. The reading was half a mile away and she couldn't tell if it was a bot or something living.

Barbara called up on Gladys to analyze the reading. Gladys bleeped as they continued in the heading. "It appears to have sentient value."

"Sentient what?"

"My scanners are suggesting that it is human."

"Affiliation?"

"None that I can readily detect."

Humans often melded themselves into factions for safety and security, whether it be Raiders, Slavers or the Brotherhood as Barbara's parents had done. But most had not been so fortunate to get themselves a reservation in a Vault. But from what Barbara had found of these Vaults, most were uninhabitable or were inhumane experiments or they had radroach infestations or were occupied by Super Mutants. Either way, Vaults weren't not as glamorous as they had been advertised. But Wastelanders, those who didn't associate with any faction, didn't last long on their own.

"Condition?" Barbara prodded.

Normally, if she had encountered a human, she kept her distance, or rather the human would keep their distance. Her bulky power armor and scowling helmet was enough to scare anyone with reason away. She didn't even bother anymore but today, she decided she would.

"Faint. In fact, vital signs are fading quickly. Perhaps if we hurry, we can offer our assistance." It was all the incentive she needed. Barbara was heartless but today, she heard it beating loud in her chest as she ran for the pinpoint on her heads-up display, Gladys trailing behind her.

In an outcropping of rocks, Barbara found a small, frail form in the shadows. Barbara slung her rifle around onto her back and crawled into the outcropping. It was a woman, a girl. Young, dirty and dying. She was dressed in dirty overalls that were spattered in blood and dust. Her skin was caked in mud and there were dark purple-red bruises around her neck. Barbara took her limp hand and felt for a pulse. She hardly felt read a thing. A faint, crackling noise quietly came from her lips.

"Ms. Connelly, I can call for medical convoy if you wish." Gladys offered.

Barbara took one of her stimpaks from her pack and injected it into the woman. The woman let out a crackling, raspy groan but she still didn't move. Barbara had seen enough to know that she had been strangled. She was lucky to be alive. "That won't be necessary, Gladys. We're done out here today. Let's go back."

Gladys bleeped. "I will call in our return."

Barbara scooped up the woman and with a netting she drew from her pack, she created a sash to cradle the woman inside of it at her shoulders. Gladys led the way as the pair went toward the one of the few places that they called home, the Citadel.

 _1734 Hours, April 11, 2280, Brotherhood of Steel Headquarters: the Citadel_

Elder Adarius Dimitri had heard the news and was not pleased. Before him stood a revered and often feared Paladin: Star Paladin Barbara Connelly. She was at attention, helmet at her waist, eyes unwaveringly blank. He wondered what his options were. The Paladin was not known to bring much attention to herself and was among the top performers the Brotherhood has ever had but today, she had done something that had the whole Citadel talking. His options, he knew, were clear - he would have to put her to the test. He had reservations though. He felt as if he were about to discipline a young Initiate and not a _Star Paladin_.

"Paladin Connelly, as I may for my own sake, I will repeat what you have told me about your recent endeavor. You were searching for the stolen T-51b armor set, as you have been for almost a whole week now, you found a dying woman instead and decided that you would bring her back here. And for what? That is the part I'm struggling to comprehend. You had _orders_ to follow."

Paladin Connelly stood firm and passive.

Elder Dimitri wasn't sure what he was looking at, what kind of person he was looking at. He had been around long enough to see her rise to glory. When he had become an Elder, she was steadily making her way through the ranks. Her prowess was unmatchable and her ethics were solid and unbreakable. She was the perfect soldier. And coming from a prominent Brotherhood family, her genes were pure and she was bred to be a Sister of Steel. In her older age, however, she became secluded and driven in her pursuit on recovering Pre-War technology. Granted, she had brought back uncountable amounts of tech but it didn't matter today. The Elder was surprised that he was having this talk with her. It was such an elementary statue in their code that it was like having to scold an older man for stealing cookies. Outsiders were _not_ welcome inside the Citadel.

But he wasn't finished. If she was going to break such an rudimentary rule, then he could scold all he wanted. "And what exactly ran through your mind when you found this woman and decided to bring her back here? What were your plans or did you act out of spontaneity? Because I think you understand our protocol about bringing outsiders in."

"I do." she said.

He knew he was getting nowhere with her. She was apathetic and Elder Dimitri was concerned about what she had planned because she _had_ a plan. And a Paladin's "plan" was his business too. So he decided he would be blunt. "What do you have planned with this woman? I know you, Paladin, nothing is random with you."

"I feel like there's something rewarding about saving someone's life." she said finally.

Paladin Connelly's response was not expected. Elder Dimitri wasn't sure what he was expecting but that was a hard response to argue with. He wasn't inhumane but it was still not acceptable.

She continued,"And I feel that our exclusive ways need to change if we want to be truly Brothers of Steel and serve the Capital Wasteland. Elder, if we are going to eradicate the Super Mutants and disregard less fortunate people, then we are no better than the Mutants that we strive to remove."

He was brought back by that. "That's a bold statement." he said and it was indeed bold. Her statement had many faces to it the way Elder Dimitri saw it. He valued the opinions of the Paladins but her statement burned him. It conjured ugly thoughts up that he hadn't given the time of day in what felt like ages.

It wasn't a secret that the Brotherhood was on a descent. After the death of Elder Lyons and subsequently Sentinel Lyons, there came a vacuum in the Brotherhood's leadership. Elder Dimitri had worked in the Lyon's Pride for a brief period of time but instead found his calling in scribe work and joined the Order of the Quill, which was responsible for chronicling and maintaining Pre-War books. He stood by and watched the Lyon's Pride flourish only to fall to the horrors of the Wasteland, the creatures and disease alike. It was hard to witness, especially when the Brotherhood found themselves leaderless. Elder Dimitri had offered himself and found that his election was unanimous. He wasn't entirely convinced if it was out of confidence or desperation from the members but nonetheless, he took his election seriously. That was almost six years ago and he was accredited for keeping the Brotherhood afloat for those six years. It was not an easy task since there were many conflicting feelings. Most Brotherhood members were still under the guise of civil duty and eradicating the Super Mutant population from the Capital Wasteland was the Brotherhood's main objective while others were still stern in the belief of preserving pre-war technology was the only priority. There was a compromise. Civil duty had become a backburner objective to dealing with the Super Mutants and recovering pre-war tech had become a higher priority.

The Brotherhood had been very open under Elder Lyons however in the command change, exclusiveness became popular again. It was no secret but that's how it was. It was mostly a defense mechanism. The Brotherhood was hurting and was making no progress. Elder Dimitri knew it was a looming concern. He was turning a blind eye to that reality only because he knew keeping the Brotherhood in order came first over progression. If there was no order, progression wouldn't even be possible. There hadn't been an outsider joining the Brotherhood ranks since Elder Lyons. The outsider had proven a great tool in storming of Project Purity but was only a useful tool. Many expected him to remain active within the Brotherhood ranks but unfortunately, that hadn't happened. The outsider had resigned after a few months of silence.

Even though there hadn't been an outsider joining in years, it wasn't impossible. Elder Lyons had taught him that openness got people places and he showed the entire Brotherhood that it could lead to good things despite unpopular opinion. Perhaps Paladin Connelly was onto something. But he was still conflicted. "I value any opinion; especially yours." he said, enticing her to continue.

"I believe it's unfair of us to impose such a task as eradicating the Super Mutants and be negligent of the less fortunate. When I was searching for the T-51b armor, I came across this woman and I felt compelled to save her from death. I realized that the only thing keeping me back from giving her aid was my strict pursuit for the armor. Surely, you can understand my deviation. It was a humane thing to do and I did so. If we're going to protect the Capital Wasteland, we need to be less exclusive and allow for the aid of the less fortunate. It is wrong of us with such advanced technology to keep it all to ourselves. I am not proposing that we begin to ruin the purity of the Brotherhood, but times are not as they were, Elder, and we need to change accordingly."

It was a lot to take in, even for an Elder. It had been years since he had heard anything of the sorts. To him, it was a breath of fresh air. He had waited a long time to hear someone express their concerns about the world outside of the Citadel, aside from the Super Mutant situation.

Elder Dimitri figured that her proposal was not out of the question and his brain began to stretch to all kinds of tangents.

His mind raced.

Paladin Connelly sensed his racing thoughts and said, "Also, Elder, I want to request to oversee the training of this woman as well as a sponsorship."

The Elder nearly choked. "Training?" he snapped.

She gave a single nod. "Yes, Elder."

"She needs to be evaluated before she can be trained. Is she even treated and conscious?"

"No, sir. I have planned to get into contact with a training commander for an evaluation after our conversation."

Elder Dimitri's gut was rolling. This situation was written with error… his brain screamed sin and wrong. It was a lot for him to take in. He was under the impression their current priorities were sitting well with the world but that was not the case as Paladin Connelly pointed out. And then came the anger. "You were assuming our conversation went in your favor then?" he bit.

"You're not an unreasonable man, Elder. I apologize for any disrespect, however, my request still remains."

"You understand, Paladin, that you're proposing actions that are unspeakable? Unheard of? A Paladin has not sponsored an _outsider_." he said narrowly.

"Times have changed, Elder."

There was a pause between the two. He then sighed and said, "I need to discuss this with my council. Your proposal is important; I believe you have a valid opinion. However, I am ordering you to withhold an evaluation until I have spoken with the others. She needs to be gone by this time tomorrow, no exceptions unless you are given new orders. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

With that, he dismissed her and went to gather his council for a very urgent meeting.

 _2012 Hours, April 11, 2280, Secure Transmission Channel, Citadel_

 _FROM: DM-001E_

 _TO: CN-006SP_

 _SUBJECT: New Orders_

 _Paladin,_

 _I have spoken with my council and with much reserve, I am authorizing an evaluation of your Wastelander. I am requesting to get the evaluation done by Knight Erik Linderman. He's a good soldier and I'm confident in his abilities to judge whether she is trainable. If he deems her untrainable, however, she will be removed._

 _If he deems her trainable, then we will discuss further actions in person at the earliest convenience. We will also discuss your sponsorship after an evaluation has been completed. Contact Knight Erik Linderman tomorrow morning by 1000 at the latest._

 _I want to assure you that I am confident in your proposal and I have thought long about what you said to me. You are seeing things in a new light. My council is not so keen to your proposal but with due time, they will come to see it may do us all some good._

 _I don't know who this Wastelander is that you found, but I hope you know that you may be putting her through more than she bargained for._

 _With regard,_

 _Elder A. Dimitri_

 _0836 Hours, April 12, 2280, Citadel, Courtyard_

The bailey was full of sound, full of noise and voices. At this particular time of day, Initiates were participating in training, whether it be mindless strength sequences, running laps around the bailey, hand-to-hand combat, or target practice. The place was alive and teeming with activity.

Knight Erik Linderman stood, observing the line of Initiates that stood before them. All were erect and at attention waiting for another order. They were breathless and soaked in sweat; he had worked them hard but it was part of the job. It was his duty to ensure that all Initiates were of the caliber to become true Brothers and Sisters of Steel. It wasn't an easy task and Linderman had spent several enduring months to reach the potential to receive his Knight rank. He was the top of his Initiate group and after some field work decided that training was where he was better suited. He was among the few who had the liberty of choosing who was good enough and who was not; weeding out the able from the weak.

It wasn't personal. It was how things worked in the Citadel.

Linderman ordered his division to a sequence of strength exercises and mindlessly counted through the exercises, pacing around the group and watching carefully. His group was only a few days into their training and there were still nearly five more weeks of it. It was all the beginning. He had already spotted the few who shone and the few who didn't. By the third week, a test would be given showing off the skills they learned and promotions would be given to those who performed well.

Just as Linderman was about to issue another command to his Initiates, he noticed a figure across the bailey that caught his eye. His eyes narrowed. It was a figure he had come to recognize: Star Paladin Barbara Connelly. She was an elusive member of the Brotherhood to say the least. She kept to herself and didn't associate with many. She spent more time in the Wasteland than in the Citadel and when Linderman did see here, she spent most of it poking her nose into places it shouldn't be. Her lack of respect for her fellow Brothers and Sisters was something that got underneath his skin and her rank was the only thing keeping him from saying something to her.

However, seeing her in the bailey made Linderman edgy.

He snapped out of his gaze and issued another exercise to the Initiates. All the while, he continued to watch the Paladin from the corner of his eye for safe measure. Much to his distaste, she wasn't just observing the bailey; she had a focus. And her focus was _him_. Her gaze never wavered and he made sure to keep himself in check and on task.

The Paladin was out of her power armor and the age of the woman could be seen in her face, which was stern with lines that showed years of unhappiness. But the age wasn't anywhere to be found on her body. She was a tall woman; she saw eye to eye with Linderman who was well over six feet tall. Her shoulders and legs were well defined and robust. She was easily in her late fifties but had the endurance and agility of himself who was thirty years her junior. He had seen her practice sparring before, watched her shoot targets, and run miles at a time with ease. She was amazing to watch and well skilled, a force to be reckoned with. As much as she got underneath Linderman's skin, he always kept his distance. The fewer encounters with her, the better it made Linderman feel.

But that wasn't going to be the case today.

Suddenly, the Paladin was in full stride towards him. "Knight Linderman." she called as she approached him.

 _So much for keeping my distance._ Linderman called for his assistant to cover for him and he approached the Paladin. He acknowledged her with a salute and said, "Steel be with you. What can I do for you, Paladin Connelly?"

"I'm relieving you of your training session today." she said.

"What for, Paladin?"

Her cold eyes scanned over him as she fished for the words. "I need your… opinion on something."

She turned and started for the B Ring and Linderman followed, wondering what sorts of trouble she was getting him into. She didn't need anyone's help and Linderman was sure his opinion wouldn't have any impact on what was about to happen.

The Paladin led Linderman to the medical bay. Once there, they were greeted by the jovial and eternally happy Mister Handy, Pavlov. Linderman had taken a few Initiates and himself to the medical bay and more times than not, Pavlov would be doing the tending. The robot zipped over to one of the beds where a young woman lay, tucked into the white sheets. She looked horribly beaten. Even though she was washed and clean, there were large, red-purple bruises around her neck. Her left eye was swollen and she had a bandage around her forehead.

A lump formed in his throat as he realized who that woman was: a wastelander. It was obvious from her sun worn skin. This wasn't one of their own.

"How is she doing, Pavlov?" Paladin Connelly asked.

"Why, she is doing much better than yesterday!" He exclaimed, "I managed to insert a stent down her pharynx- her _throat_ to allow it to heal and realign itself. I removed it this morning and her respiratory rate has normalized! However, she is still deeply unconscious. It is a miracle she is alive; her throat had nearly been crushed. I don't understand how someone can _live_ with themselves knowing they caused that much harm to someone!"

Linderman was confused. What did _he_ have anything to do this with the woman? What opinion could he offer Paladin Connelly? The woman was obviously malnourished, frail and injured. But what puzzled him more was that there was a _wastelander_ under the Brotherhood's care. How did she get here in the first place? Did the Paladin bring her? No… she couldn't have. It was against their protocols.

"Ms. Connelly, could I ask a very important favor of you?" Pavlov asked, addressing Paladin Connelly. "I need to go across the hall and speak to Sawbones about something. If you could, could you watch this patient while I'm gone? If anything happens, give me a shout. I would really appreciate it!"

"Of course."

Pavlov bid them goodbye and whizzed out, leaving the Paladin, the Knight and the wastelander alone.

"How did she get here?" He asked harshly.

"I brought her here."

He was shocked at how shameless she admitted it. " _You_ did?"

"Knight, she would have died if I hadn't brought her back here... You're not suggesting that I should have left her there to die, are you?" she said in such a way that it made Knight Linderman feel embarrassed that he had questioned her. But it was no secret that she had broken a lot of rules bringing her here.

He tried to word his reply as delicate as possible, "Ma'am, this is against Citadel rules... Wastelanders are not allowed-"

She cut him off abruptly. "That's besides the point. I have the Elder's do you think of her?" She asked, as if she was asking him to critique a piece of art. But all he could see a beaten, unconscious Wastelander. Nothing else.

"I don't think I understand what you're asking me, Paladin." he said blunt, "because the only reason that you would be asking _me_ is if you believe she has a chance of becoming an Initiate…"

"Precisely." her eyes were piercing.

Linderman's gut tightened. He didn't think that Wastelanders were very trainable. He had met a lot of them in his time and most of them were standoffish and unpredictable. He once got into an altercation with one who accused him of killing his family and taking everything from him. They were rough people and were better off left alone. They also got themselves into trouble. It wasn't a surprise there were so few settlements that lasted. And this was a good example of the trouble they can get themselves in.

He took a moment before he started towards the bed where the woman lay. She remained immobile, despite the presence of a fully armored Knight looming over her. She looked _horrible_. For a moment, he wondered what happened to her and came to the conclusion that it looked like she had been strangled and beaten. It gave him a chills to think that someone done this to a woman.

It would be hard for him to come to any conclusion about her trainability when she was unconscious. Despite that, he knew that no matter what he told her, it wouldn't have made much of a difference. She had already made up her mind.

"I don't know," he said finally, "It's hard for me to make a judgment while she's not conscious. We'll have to wait until she heals more and comes to before I can assess her trainability. You said the Elder was okay with this, correct?"

"I wouldn't have gotten this far if I didn't have their approval. I don't feel much Knight, but when I came across this woman I felt compelled to save her. Ithink there's something rewarding in saving someone's life." Paladin Connelly said.

Her remark caught him off guard. He failed to see the wrong in her words. However much it was looked down upon. It was a humane thing to do, a moral thing to do and he couldn't argue with that. Linderman imagined the Elder had only so much as shook his finger at the Star Paladin and allowed it to slide. But if Linderman had done the same, his punishment would be severe.

Either way, whoever this woman was, she had a lot of proving to do if she wanted to earn a place here.

Just as Linderman turned to return to where Paladin Connelly stood, the woman stirred. She made a low, gurgling sound before lapsing into a violent coughing fit.

Linderman lurched, shouting, " _Pavlov_!"

In an instant, Pavlov whizzed in and exclaimed, "How excellent! I'm surprised she's coming to!" he came to the edge of the bed, "don't be alarmed, Mr. Linderman, she needs a good cough to expel all the phlegm that's collected in her airways."

Linderman couldn't help but feel some concern. The cough was alarming in itself. It sounded painful and made his skin tingle beneath his armor. Finally, her coughing fit ceased and she let out a pained groan. She looked up weakly to the group around her. Her eyes were bloodshot and her face pale.

Linderman imagined it was not the most pleasant group to awaken to. He was large, intimidating and faceless in his armor, Pavlov was hovering a little too close and Paladin Connelly had a stern face about her.

"Hello there, madam, I am so happy to see you are finally awake." Pavlov said gently as one of his mechanical arms wiped up the bloody mucus that spattered her front, "Ms. Connelly, Mr. Linderman, if you two could stand back for a moment and allow me to tend to her."

The pair stood in the back of the medical bay and watched Pavlov expertly tend to the woman. She was weak and her breaths came out raspy and raw. Pavlov tried to carry on a conversation with the woman but she never responded. Linderman figured the robot was talking to himself to fill the void and make the woman feel more at ease. But the pair looked onto them interestedly.

She began to croak something quietly before she caught the attention of Pavlov. "I'm sorry, madam, did you say something?"

The woman croaked again. Her head had rolled back onto the pillow and her eyes shut.

" _Oh_!" One of Pavlov's eyes turned to Linderman and Paladin Connelly. "Ms. Connelly, do you know who she speaks of?"

"Who?" she asked, approaching him. Linderman followed.

"Orson? Do you know someone by the name of Orson?"

Her thin, grey eyebrows furrowed. "Never in my life."

The woman's eyes cracked open slowly and she looked directly at Paladin Connelly and asked, "Where… is he?"

"I don't know who you're talking about." Paladin Connelly replied.

The woman groaned."Where is he?" she persisted, "where is he?"

"I didn't find anyone else with you."

The woman looked defeated and faint. She closed her eyes and didn't say anything.

"You're under the protection of the Brotherhood of Steel." Paladin Connelly told her softly, in a way that Linderman had never heard her speak before. Linderman could hardly believe she was so passionate for this woman. Connelly didn't have a heart. She was a rough, rigid woman who notoriously never gave more than two cares about anything and suddenly, now she has a heart?

The woman didn't say anything and didn't acknowledge that she was being spoken to.

"What's your name?" she persisted.

Still, no response.

She huffed. "If you want to be that way, fine. I'll be back tomorrow Pavlov and she better be talking by then."

"Why, _of course_ she will be talking by tomorrow! Don't be ridiculous, Ms. Connelly. I'm sure she will be doing much better by tomorrow!" Pavlov affirmed cheerily.

She was out of the medical bay before he finished talking, which left Linderman standing there and he didn't so much as give the wastelander another glance. He followed suit soon after the Paladin. He laughed to himself quietly at the situation the Paladin had herself in. She saves some a wastelander from death and when this wastelander wakes up, she's noncompliant and standoffish even with little energy.

He didn't give it another thought. He had work to do with his Initiates.

After his training session was complete, he made his way to the armory to send his armor through its usual tune up and then found his way to his office to check his terminal. In his message inbox, a message sat unread that sent his mind racing. It read:

 _FROM: DM-001E_

 _TO: LN-085K_

 _SUBJECT: Evaluation Request_

 _Knight,_

 _Star Paladin Barbara Connelly will be speaking with you today about a request for an evaluation of a Wastelander that she has recovered. I request that you evaluate her as soon as possible but no later than 0800 at the end of this week._

 _I understand your credentials which is why I am authorizing this evaluation from you._

 _Please don't hesitate to contact me if you have any concerns._

 _With regard,_

 _Elder A. Dimitri_

 _It would have been nice to receive this before Connelly had come up to me._ Linderman thought. It would explain why she sounded secretive about the situation. She was under the impression that he knew about this evaluation request.

Evaluating Initiates was something Linderman was good at and he felt particularly honored that an Elder would be calling upon him for the evaluation. But there were several Paladins that were much more qualified than him. He decided he would bask in it for now.

He replied to the message with a confirmation of receival and made way for the laboratory to acquire the necessary paperwork. He had a lot of work to do.

 _0731 Hours, April 13, 2280, Citadel, B-Ring, Medical Bay_

The following day, Paladin Barbara Connelly went to the medical bay first thing in the morning. An evaluation of her had been requested and Linderman affirmed that he would give the wastelander a few days to recuperate before evaluating her. Barbara, on the other hand, couldn't wait a few days to hear this woman's story. She wanted to know who she was, what she was doing where she found her and who she worked for.

Barbara entered the medical bay to find the woman laying on her back, asleep and hopefully not unconscious. Pavlov was hovering over a table as he worked with some syringes. He turned to greet Barbara. "Well, good morning, Ms. Connelly! Good to see you up and well! How are you today?"

"Is she conscious?" Barbara asked, ignoring his inquiry.

"Oh… yes, she's asleep. It's still rather early and she didn't sleep well last night. I stayed up with her all night. Lots of coughing, but she is _alive_ , which is considerably better than my original prognosis!" Pavlov said.

"Has she said anything to you?"

"Not much. The most conversation we had is what she would like to drink but that's about it! She's not very talkative... But I should warn you that I wouldn't try to press anything too stressful upon her. She's healing well but the safer and calmer she feels, the quicker she will be up on her feet!"

"I'll try not to…"

The woman groaned from her bed. Pavlov whizzed over, all three of his mechanical arms ready to tend to her. Barbara joined Pavlov at her bed. He propped up the pillow for her as she sat up and coughed.

She looked… better. She still looked rough but better than the day before. The bruises at her neck were healing and her eye wasn't so swollen.

"Good to see you're alive this morning." Barbara said.

The woman regarded her only with a glance before closing her eyes again. She groaned and coughed.

"Good morning, madam!" Pavlov greeted, wiping the spittle from her chin, "I am so glad that you got some sleep. You are looking _much_ better today! But I wanted to introduce someone you might be interested in talking to. I'll be going to the mess hall to retrieve you some breakfast but in the meantime _this_ ," he gestured with his arms towards Barbara, "is Star Paladin Barbara Connelly. Ms. Connelly would like to speak to you about some things. And I will be right back!" And with that Pavlov exited the medical bay leaving the pair to themselves.

She didn't have any idea of who this woman was. But her first impression proved the woman to but stubborn and passive. That was going to change. Barbara realized that the Elder's council was not very confident in her proposal, despite Elder Dimitri's assurance. She knew them better than that. She needed to make sure that this woman was worth something.

The woman didn't move; she only remained still with her eyes closed.

She decided she would try to be kind. "I'm sure you've been getting well acquainted with Pavlov. As he said, I'm Star Paladin Connelly. I'm the one that found you and brought you here." she said with no response from the woman. She didn't regard her with anything. Barbara wasn't necessarily expecting a warm reception from her but she didn't expect the lack of reception entirely.

"I can't tell if you're ignoring me because you hate me or if you're ignoring me because you're an asshole. But I'm sure it's probably both. Pavlov's been too nice to you. I _need_ you to start talking."

Finally, the woman opened her eyes. "What do you want from me?" she asked with a hoarse voice.

"I want your cooperation."

"For what?"

"To tell me _something_ , anything. Your _name_ , _who_ you are, and _why_ you were where I found you."

"Why do you care so much?"

"I could throw you back into the Wasteland if you're going to act so defiant." Barbara sneered. "And it won't be where I found you either."

The woman didn't miss a beat. "My name's Lisette O'Brien and I don't know how or why I ended up where you found me, wherever that was..."

Barbara heaved a sigh of relief. "Was that so difficult?"

Lisette O'Brien shrugged.

"I feel it's only mutual respect if we get to know each other." Lisette raised an eyebrow at that. Barbara continued, "I want to offer you something, but I need to know who you work for."

"No one."

"Then I would advise you to take up my offer, if not, I have orders to put you back where I found you."

Lisette's eyes narrowed. "What are you offering?"

"I'm offering you training, a place to live, a place to sleep, eat and clothe you and to offer you a chance to become something. Wastelanders like you don't last long on their own."

"I wasn't on my own." She said softly.

"Oh?"

"I had my brother with me... Orson. Did you find anyone else with me?" she had feverently.

Barbara then realized that was the person she was croaking about when she first came around. "Not a trace."

She sighed, sadness taking her face. "I don't know what happened to him..."

"He's probably dead." Barbara said bluntly.

Lisette threw her a look, disgusted by her honesty. "He's not dead." She spat.

"He's _lucky_ if he's dead. I found you in an area infested with slavers, which is why I'm interested in knowing why you were there in the first place. I wasn't sure if you were a runaway slave and I would have to worry about a slaver lord coming after my head for taking something that belonged to him."

She shook her head with a hollow expression. "I'm not a slave."

"In that case, it's a miracle they didn't come across you because right now you'd be in less pleasant circumstances and most likely dead." Barbara left it at that, letting it sink into her. And she knew it was. The sudden paleness that had captured Lisette's complexion was evidence enough.

Lisette's lips were pressed into a hard line. She didn't speak for a while. Barbara took a seat on the cot across from hers and waited as patiently as she could. She didn't have much time for a pity party so she began to pry. "Do you remember anything?"

Lisette shook her head, not saying a word. Barbara figured that it didn't have much significance in the grand scheme of things and needed consent that she was willing to take up her offer.

"That's a shame." Barbara said, "But my offer still stands."

"I _need_ to find my brother." Lisette persisted.

"He's probably dead or if he's really unlucky, a slave. In that case, he's as good as dead."

"No, _no_ , he _isn't_... I know he isn't."

Barbara knew she needed to change her tactic. If she was going to get her to consent to her offer, he needed to play closer to home for her. Barbara thought for a moment and Lisette saw that on her face.

"What?" Lisette said.

"Take up my offer and I'll help you find your brother."

Lisette's face lit up for a moment and only for a moment. "Yeah, like I'm going to believe that… You're the last person I'd want to accept any help from." she said bitterly.

"Judging by your circumstances, you don't have a choice. I was kind enough to bring you here and give you the medical care that you needed but you're _not welcome_ as a Wastelander. If I were you, I would give my offer the time of day."

Lisette crossed her arms over her chest, seemingly not convinced until she heaved a breath and said, "Fine…"

Barbara smirked. "Glad to see you're not only greedy and stubborn but an opportunist." She stood up and began to make for the door. "Later this week when you're more adept, a Knight will be coming in to evaluate you. Then and only then will you be able to fully accept my offer. Your consent was all I needed."

"A Knight? And I don't get any time to think about it?"

"No, at this point, you don't deserve it." With that said, Barbara exited the medical bay.

 _0713 Hours, April 15, 2280, Citadel, B-Ring, Medical Bay_

The next two days Lisette O'Brien had a sickening feeling in her gut. Somewhere out there was her brother, alive or dead. He was out there and she couldn't do a damn thing about it. Her throat was still sore and her brain scrambled to understand what was happening. For years, it had been her and her brother and now it was just her in this strange place with these strange people. Lisette hadn't had many Brotherhood of Steel run-ins but most were not pleasant. They would scoff under their breath about how dirty she was or that she needed to mind her own business and move along. For a group that claimed to be the protectors of the Capital, they treated the ones they "protect" like shit.

But right now, she was in a difficult spot. She desperately clawed at her memory to try and remember what had happened after her and her brother had left Megaton with that… guy. But she couldn't recall a single thing. She remembered their departure and the rest was a haze and the next thing she remembered was waking up to that bitter old woman and that armored man and the very talkative robot.

But that bitter old woman had said that she could help find her brother... if she joined them. Lisette wasn't entirely excited about joining anything. Orson had drilled it into her head that it was better to be on your own. But she knew she wouldn't last long in the Wasteland by herself without her brother.

She didn't have a choice. She had to comply. But she had no idea what was going to be expected of her. Lisette decided she would ask the next one of them that walked in there what exactly she had complied to.

The Mister Handy, which went by the name of Pavlov, came whizzing in with a tray full of food in his mechanical arms. He greeted her cheerily as he normally did, as if the excitement of greeting her was never-ending. "Ms. O'Brien, you will never guess what I saw on the way to getting you some breakfast!"

Lisette only stared at him, uninterested.

He continued anyway, setting the tray on the table next to her cot, "Well, I was coming down the hallway and I saw… a _radroach_ and _then_ you'll never guess, the head scribe screamed so loud! Oh, it was quite amusing! I have never heard a human emit such a high pitched scream! How silly!" He paused, looking at her longingly for a reaction.

She continued to stare.

"Well, how are you feeling? You haven't spoken much today…"

"Like shit."

His eyes drifted slightly before saying, "Could you be more specific, Ms. O'Brien? What part of you is feeling like human feces, if you excuse my derogatory wording?"

"All of me. I don't want to be here."

"Oh, Ms. O'Brien, I'm very sorry you feel that way. Would you like to talk about it more?"

Lisette couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not. She figured he was being wholehearted since he hadn't picked up on any of her sarcasm thus far. "No." she said, point blank.

He expressed an artificial sigh. "Well, perhaps you will feel better after you have eaten your breakfast? It's the usual today!"

Lisette looked at the tray of food he had set down in the table near her. She had to admit, she was pretty hungry. Since her throat had been so raw, eating was a challenge. Most of her meals consisted of drinks or a very thick fruit sauce from an unpleasant brown bag. But now her throat wasn't so sore and she knew that Pavlov knew that judging from the type of food he had brought her this time.

The tray consisted of some sort of hash with bits of pale pink meat, a slice of bread with a slick spread, and chunks of fruit in a thick syrup. There was a hot beverage and a cup of water accompanied with it as well as eating utensils and a napkin. It looked appetizing to her standards. Food was food but she hadn't exactly warmed up to the idea of food being readily available on a schedule.

"Are you hungry, Ms. O'Brien? Why don't you sit up and come to the edge of the bed to eat?" Pavlov said.

Lisette's stomach rumbled eagerly. She was very hungry. She sat up and untucked herself from the sheets to sit on the edge of the bed. Pavlov looked at her earnestly, watching take small bites of her food. She eventually threw him a glance, which he caught and then said, "Please, eat slow."

"I _am_." she shook her head, annoyed.

As she was halfway through her meal, another robot whizzed in. This one the less pleasant one. "I'm still surprised you're alive." The Mister Gutsy was an asshole but Lisette respected that. He was the other robot that maintained the medical bay and his name was Sawbones. Lisette hadn't come across many Misters but the Gutsies that she did come across were exactly like Sawbones: assholes, drill sergeant-like assholes.

"Oh _Sawbones_ , you are too cruel!" Pavlov cried like a wife to their husband.

"Good to see you too, Sawbones. I'm still surprised they haven't thrown you out of here for being such an asshole."

"They don't keep me around because I'm funny or beautiful, I can assure you, ma'am!"

"Why do they even need two robots in one place?" Lisette asked, genuinely curious.

"What a _ridiculous_ thing to ask! _Someone_ has to make sure that the entire Brotherhood doesn't cave in due to medical injuries! I am _extremely_ proud to say that not a single Brother of Steel has died due to severe injuries in over a month! Your kind dies daily from petty illness!" With that, he huffed and went to busy himself in a filing cabinet.

"That's fair." Lisette nodded, satisfied with his answer.

"What Sawbones is trying to say is that he primarily specializes in emergency care while I specialize in general care. But I also happen to be quite knowledgeable in respiratory care, if you would like to know. But that is beside the point…" Pavlov's sentence trailed off into a jovial laugh, "I'm not confident that Sawbones would have been able to repair a crushed pharynx as I did. In fact, it was the first time I had ever attempted that type of procedure."

Lisette finished up her breakfast and quickly retreated back under the sheets of her cot. Pavlov approached her to take her empty tray from her when a figure appeared in the medical bay's doorway. She caught sight of the individual from the corner of her eye.

The man nearly filled the doorway with his height. He had an incredibly stoic face and quite handsome. His jawline was strong and his brow bone was the dominant feature on his face. He had a fair complexion with the exception of few faint scars on his cheeks. His dark hair was cropped short and he had matching dark eyes that revealed little to no emotion, much like his face. He was dressed in what Lisette had come to know as a casual uniform with a clipboard and pen in his hand. Lisette didn't recognize him but he looked important.

Pavlov turned to regard him happily. "Mr. Linderman, it is so good to see you! How are you doing this morning? Have you had your morning coffee as you like so much?"

"Good to see you too, Pavlov. And yes, I have." He replied politely.

" _Good_! What can I do for you this morning, Mr. Linderman?"

"I'm here for her," He gestured with his clipboard at Lisette, "Evaluation."

"Oh, yes! I almost forgot! Well, I have to drop off this tray at the mess hall so I'll make sure to stay out of your way!" Pavlov said. Then he turned to Sawbones who was still rummaging through a filing cabinet, grumbling to himself. "Sawbones? Mr. Linderman's here to perform his evaluation. Why don't we allow him to do his buisness, hmm?"

Sawbones slammed the filing cabinet shut after plucking a folder from it. "Fine."

Both of the Misters escorted themselves out, shutting the door behind them with a quiet hiss. A silence fell on the medical bay and Lisette felt herself tense yet placid. The man approached her as he scribbled on the clipboard. She looked him up and down, trying to read him but she found it difficult. He appeared battle-hardened and fair complexed. There wasn't many people in the Wasteland with such fair complexion. The sun was brutal and tanned every bit of exposed skin. But these Brotherhood of Steel folks, they were pale. Their skin was pristine and free of all impurities like burns, sunspots and creases. Yet, this man had seen a few battles in his time as the speckles on his cheeks indicated. He was still young, not much older than herself but he intimidated her. She had recognized his voice from the day she came to. He was there and was adorned in power armor. It had been the first time she had ever encountered someone in power armor up close and it was _scary_. It carried its own threatening presence. Thankfully, he was dressed down considerably. However, she was still intimidated.

In her nervousness, she said, "Are you this Knight that that old bitch told me would be coming in?"

"That is a _Star Paladin_ you're speaking about, Wastelander. If you think you can speak that way about a Star Paladin then you have a lot to learn and I suggest you learn your place sooner rather than later," he bit, "I understand that you don't have any idea of how order works but a fundamental aspect to learn is your place in the hierarchy. I'll let you know that you don't have the authority or respect to talk about a Star Paladin like that."

Lisette bit back her tongue, realizing that he was being completely serious. His expression remained resolute in its sternness.

He cleared his throat. "I apologize for being so blunt but I'm trying to do you a favor. What's that old saying? If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all. I would suggest making that saying law. My name is Knight Erik Linderman. Star Paladin Connelly believes you're worth an evaluation and I'm going to be doing that today." he continued to scrawl on his clipboard.

 _Evaluation? Evaluation of what?_

"What are you going to be evaluating?"

"To determine whether you're apt to being trained."

"Like a goddamn dog?"

Linderman sighed. "You've got a mouth, don't you?"

"It happens when you're a _Wastelander_ as your kind likes to say."

"I wish I could sympathize with you more but unfortunately, I can't. How about we get started? The sooner we get this done, the sooner I'll be out of your hair. What's your name?" he said.

"Lisette O'Brien."

"Age?"

"Why does it matter?"

"Ma'am, I'm going to try to make this as painless as possible. You do understand that I'm the one whose deciding whether you're going to be thrown back out there or not. And I can assure you the Super Mutants wouldn't mind having fun with you; there are hundreds outside these walls. Your mouth won't get you anywhere. Now, how old are you?"

Lisette had to admit she was being more stubborn than she usually was. She was fully aware that she was indebted to these people and she did want to cooperate but she wasn't going to make it easy on them. Part of her wasn't so sure that they would throw her out but the other part of her didn't want to find out if they were serious. This Knight Erik Linderman had a patience about him, a calm and cool patience about him. Perhaps, she could use that to her advantage.

"I'm twenty-two." she said.

After a long series of questions and small exercises, the Knight finished up writing on his clipboard and looked through the papers one last time before nodding at him. "I believe that's all I need from you. I appreciate your cooperation."

"What could you all possibly want from me?" Lisette asked, genuinely curious. It was a question that was running around her head since the moment she came to. She quickly figured out that these people were xenophobic. "I have nothing to offer you or anyone here."

The Knight gave her a blank look. He was very hard to read and Lisette couldn't figure anything from his face. She wondered if emotionless and unforgiving was something that happened to these kind of people. Lisette couldn't argue that if anything, she was just that. Then he said, "I would take that up with Star Paladin Connelly. I have to submit this evaluation. Again, thank you for your cooperation." He started to go.

"Wait!" Lisette called, "what's the verdict?"

"That's confidential."

Fear rushed through her. All she could think about was her brother and that evaluation weighed heavily on her having even the slightest chance of finding him. "I… I just want to find my brother," she blurted out, "and… if you all are going to give me an opportunity to do that, then I'll take it. He means the world to me and he's the only one I have. I'm not gonna last out there by myself."

Lisette expected an expression change to happen on the Knight's face. But that didn't happen. He was still as calm and cool as ever.

"It's confidential, Wastelander." With that, he exited the medical bay.

Her throat tightened, choking her up. Suddenly, she was afraid. Very, _very_ afraid. She realized this was coming to a head. If they were going to give her an opportunity to find her brother at some point like that Paladin had said, then she would do everything in her power to make sure that happened.

Lisette found herself struggling against tears. She missed him dearly. She didn't know how to make a decision like this on her own but she knew if he was in her circumstances, he would be doing the same.

She would find him. Someday.

 _1435 Hours, April 15, 2280, Secure Transmission Channel, Citadel_

 _FROM: LN-085K_

 _TO: DM-001E_

 _SUBJECT: Evaluation Completed & Report_

 _Good afternoon Elder,_

 _I have completed my evaluation of the Wastelander. Attached to this message is the evaluation in full detail._

 _I have determined the Wastelander to be trainable. With your approval, I am granting her allowance into my own personal training division for the first tier of training. After the first tier has been completed, she will receive the second evaluation as do the other Initiates before power armor and advanced training._

 _I see potential in her character._

 _Let me know if you have any concerns or discrepancies with the report or compatibility issues._

 _Signed,_

 _Knight E. Linderman_

* * *

 _FROM: E_AD_

 _TO: K_EL_

 _SUBJECT: Re: Evaluation Completed & Report_

 _Knight,_

 _I appreciate taking time out of your schedule to perform this evaluation. I trust your judgement and I approve of admitting her to your personal division. Star Paladin Connelly also requested that she sponsor her training. I am only authorizing her through the second tier of her training._

 _Contact me if you have any concerns._

 _Make her feel welcome, Knight._

 _With regard,_

 _Elder A. Dimitri_


	2. Part 2: The Initiate

**PART II: THE INITIATE**

 _1653 Hours, April 15, 2280, Citadel, Laboratory, Private Office 2A_

Elder Dimitri called Star Paladin Connelly for a private meeting his office. He had the approval of Knight Linderman which, to the Elder, was good enough for him. He paged through the Knight's evaluation for an hour for any discrepancies but mostly to verify that he wasn't making a huge mistake. His mind hadn't thought about anything else aside from this Wastelander. He wanted to see her and speak to her about the pressures and challenges she would have to overcome. Elder Dimitri wasn't certain she would be able handle it. If she could, however, the Elder and everyone else would be extremely impressed. Yet, he knew that it was not his place to familiarize himself with her. He had people he trusted on the matter and he had more pressing concerns to deal with.

At least, with the evaluation, he was able to put a name to her: _Lisette O'Brien_. It was a lovely name, for a Wastelander.

The Elder's door chimed and he approved the entry.

In the doorway, stood Star Paladin Connelly. She was dressed in her dark casual uniform with an embellished gold rank on her shoulder. She regarded the Elder with a salute, fist to her chest. "Steel be with you, Elder." she said.

He returned the salute and offered her a chair across from his desk. He pulled up the Wastelander's - O'Brien's evaluation on his terminal and cleared his throat. "Knight Linderman has deemed her trainable and he commented on her character. That it had potential. Do you agree?"

"Yes, Elder."

He nodded. "I've already ordered that she be taken into Knight Linderman's personal training division and you are permitted to sponsor her through her second tier of training."

"Thank you, Elder. If you don't mind me asking, why only the second tier?"

He held up a hand. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Just because she's deemed trainable doesn't mean she'll be able to get through first tier training. And I'm more confident in Knight Linderman's abilities in the first tier than I am with yours. She may have the approval of Knight Linderman but that's no reflection of how she'll fare in training. If she can make it through his training, then she'll have no problem when it comes time for you to sponsor her. What have you gathered from her? What's her story?"

"The only information I could get from her was basic. Her name and that she has - or _had_ a brother. They were travelling together and got separated. The area I found her in is slaver territory so I imagine they had something to do with her condition and possibly her brother."

Elder Dimitri raised his eyebrows. "Slavers?"

She nodded. "That's all I know. She wasn't apt to talking."

"Knight Linderman got all his information easily. I wonder why you weren't able to do the same?"

Paladin Connelly only stared in response.

"I don't think you realize what tremendous burden you have imposed on her."

"I was fully aware of what I was doing, sir." She said.

Elder Dimitri wasn't convinced she truly did. "She will have to overcome incredible opposition here. The last time we let someone from the Wasteland join our ranks, he was a great asset but only for a short time. He had his own agenda and demonstrated that very clearly once he abandoned us. Only the best and most loyal will remain true Brothers and Sisters of will be watching her thoroughly and if there is any kind of misbehavior or suspicion of her intentions, then she will be removed. _Everyone_ will be watching her and I believe that you and I are among the few that have any capacity to accept her as one of our own. Are you still confident that she will be able to overcome all of that?"

"Yes, Elder."

Part of him believed her but part of him didn't. He continued, " _You_ have more pressing orders that I don't believe should be put on the back burner any more. And to busy yourself with a Wastelander is a misuse of your time. I don't want to assume you're putting off your orders but I'm beginning to have that feeling. I do remember making it very clear to you the importance of them… Do you understand, Paladin?"

"Yes, Elder."

"Now," He leaned back in his car and folded his arms over his chest. "how is your investigation coming on the stolen T-51b armor? Do you have anything to report?"

"Nothing, sir, I'm still gathering information on who could have stolen it in the first place." she said.

Elder Dimitri was expecting that answer, however he was no less shocked by it. He gut twisted anxiously.

A complete, fully preserved set of T-51b power armor was located and retrieved from the ruins of a Pre-War army fort. It was a great find and replicating the armor was the main objective. Power armor post-war was harder and harder to find in decent shape and power armor is what gave the Brotherhood their might and image. To lose that image would be devastating to the Brotherhood. When word of this suit of armor came back to Elder Dimitri, he wanted that suit in their control. Once it was retrieved, however, on the way to the Brotherhood's storage facility, it was apprehended and not a single member of the escort party survived. Eight members of the Brotherhood were slain that day and Elder Dimitri wanted answers. He wanted to know who would have wanted it and who managed to kill eight fully armored soldiers. He decided he would put Paladin Connelly on it, knowing she was more than qualified for the task. He had promised her a promotion if she were able to locate and bring it back. And now, she was telling him that after a week of investigating that she had _nothing_ to report. Who were they dealing with?

"You have _nothing_? It's been almost a whole week, Paladin. You're the only one I've assigned with this task."

"Sir, it's not an easy task. Whoever apprehended it did a good job making sure no one knew who they were and it doesn't help that they took out the _entire_ escort party. That takes major expertise. I made a trip to the morgue to examine the bodies and determined that long range, suppressed weapons were used. It would explain why the escort party didn't know there was anyone there. I have yet to determine whether it was a sole gunman or a group."

"You think a single gunman could take out _eight_ fully armored soldiers?" Elder Dimitri bit.

"The Wasteland is unpredictable sir. A single gunman is unlikely so it was most likely a group. Now, how large or small of a group is hard to tell. It could have been two people, four, or eight. Anything higher than that seems unlikely as well."

Elder Dimitri heaved a sigh. "Looks like a lot of questions have yet to be answered and I hope you find those answers soon. Do you have any idea of who might have done it?"

"That's the most difficult question to answer. Seeing as though we've made few allies in the past few years, it could be anyone. It could have been Talon Company, Rangers, even Raiders. I've ruled out Super Mutants because the job was too clean and concise. With Super Mutants, I would expect limbs to be missing and extensive damage done to the bodies. But the wounds are clean. And I can't imagine what the Super Mutants would want with a set of power armor that they couldn't make use of."

An idea came across his mind and he asked, "What about the Outcasts?"

She didn't miss a beat. "The Outcasts don't operate that far west. I have reasons to believe it's Talon Company or Raiders. Raiders seem more likely, which addresses the fact that the escort party engaged a group of Raiders twenty minutes before the armor was apprehended and the escort party was slain.

"I'm going out tomorrow to the site where the armor was apprehended and do a thorough scan of the area and see if I can make contact with any groups there. I don't ask much from you Elder, but I'm asking for patience. I understand the importance of locating and retrieving the armor but I _will_ find it. I just need time. We're dealing with either a very intelligent group or a very stupid one."

Elder Dimitri had to admit he was a little taken back by Paladin Connelly's bluntness. Asking for patience was a bold statement. He shouldn't expect anything else than bold with her though. " _I'm_ the patient one. The rest of my council is aren't exactly happy with you lately. With lack of progress with your current objective _and_ bringing a Wastelander into the Citadel… I have plenty of confidence and trust in you; that's the reason I assigned you to it. This is an extremely important task. But don't mistaken my intentions for impatience. Go out tomorrow and get me more answers. You're dismissed, Paladin."

With that said, she stood, saluted him and left his office. The door closed behind her and the Elder pulled up a log on his terminal retrieved from a downed Mister Gutsy that was at the scene. It was rough fragments:

 _...20:04...departure of facility_19274..._

 _...20:47...detected raiders..._

 _...20:52...threat neutralized..._

 _...21:00...5 miles until storage site..._

 _...21:10…# &212481#() &!(?~`190023,}{}..._

Elder Dimitri grumbled. The only thing useful from that thing was the time with which the incident occurred. But that didn't give anything useful. If he could guess, it was Raiders. But it could have also been Talon Company. Hell, it could have been anyone.

Whoever it was, they weren't going to be alive long enough to reap the benefits the armor had.

 _0312, April 16, 2280, Secure Transmission Channel, Citadel_

 _FROM: P_BC_

 _TO: P_FMK_

 _SUBJECT: Idea_

 _I have an idea._

 _Remember that woman I picked up about a week ago? The Elder approved of my sponsorship through the second tier of her training. This is where the idea comes in. She's not Brotherhood material at all. I knew that the moment she opened her mouth. She's pure Wastelander and no amounts of training will ever change that. She's exactly the type of person I need for my idea._

 _By the way, how's the armor?_

 _I'll be heading back tomorrow._

 _See you soon._

 _1026 Hours, April 16, 2280, Citadel, B-Ring, Medical Bay_

The next day, Pavlov determined that Lisette was well enough and cleared from the bay. And Lisette wasn't excited about it. Someone in a crimson robe came to her to escort her out, saying that there was much to do.

Lisette gave one last look at Pavlov who was waving one of his mechanical arms at her, "Oh, come back again, Ms. O'Brien! I look forward to our next encounter!" Lisette had to admit, she didn't mind the machine. It was the only person she had really talked to here and he made for good conversation.

The robed individual explained that he was a scribe and that he was going to take her to the bunkhouse to get situated. However, the scribe failed to mention that she would get her hair shaved off, which she was not pleased about. If Lisette liked anything about herself, it was her hair. Her brother was gone and now her hair. _Great._ The two things that made life bearable...

The scribe got her a pair of drab grey clothes that smelled of strange soap and led her out of the building. Lisette hadn't been outside in a long time and the sun was scalding behind the overcast. She felt it on her newly shaved scalp. The clouds didn't help the heat at all.

The courtyard was pentagonal and at every corner, there were shooting ranges coupled with covered metal awnings and sparing arenas. It practically empty aside from a few wandering individuals. The scribe led her to one edge of the pentagon to where a two story building protruded from the wall. They climbed two flights of stairs to a room that overlooked the courtyard. It wasn't enclosed entirely and the room was lined with bunk beds.

"I've been told by your training officer to inform you that training begins at 0600 everyday. And afternoon lesson is at 1500," He gestured to a bunk and a foot locker at the end of the bed. "Make yourself at home, Initiate." With that said, the scribe departed, leaving her to the empty room to be alone with her thoughts.

 _Initiate?_ Lisette thought.

She had been called a lot of things in her lifetime, most of which were not pleasant but she hadn't ever had anything that official to call herself. She hadn't fully wrapped her mind around all of this. She looked down at her boots and the gloves on her hands. She touched her head and cringed. Then she looked at the bunk the scribe had motioned towards. It was hers and the foot locker was embossed with: INT. L. O'BRIEN, OB-121I

She didn't know what to think about all of this. _It's official then… isn't it?_ She hadn't imagined it would have been this easy to get into the most prestigious society in the Capital Wasteland but she knew that someone on the higher end of the hierarchy had jumped through quite a few hoops to get her to where she now stood. She didn't know if she would thank them or not.

It wasn't long before she heard voices and on the opposite side of the room entered a group of three individuals who looked like her, shaved heads and same clothes. They stopped in their tracks and regarded her with smirks and wide eyes.

" _Sooo_ …" the only woman of the group said, "you're this _Wastelander_ we've been hearing about? I didn't think you'd be in _our_ training division though. Lucky you." She sneered sarcastically.

One of the men nudged her saying, "Hey, come on now, Oster, cut her some slack. Like you know what it's like to be a Wastelander. You've never been out of the Citadel unsupervised." The man approached Lisette with an open hand and a smile. He had a shaven head like herself and had a fair complexion and striking blue eyes. "Names Initiate Harvey Goodwin. Nice to meet you…?"

Lisette took his hand and shook it. "Lisette O'Brien.

"Nice to meet you." he said.

The woman, Oster, scoffed, "She's _still_ a Wastelander."

"Not according to Elder Dimitri," the other man of the group said, offering his hand for greeting. He had a slightly darker complexion and darker hair. "Ronald Van." he said, " and if the _Elder_ says she's one of us then she _is_. Shove your attitude somewhere else, Oster. No need to intimidate the newcomers."

Oster grumbled something before she made an about face and left the same way she came. "Don't mind her." Goodwin said with a dismissive wave. "She's always in a perpetually bad mood."

"I can see that." Lisette said.

"Welcome to the Brotherhood." Van said with a smile.

"You two are awfully nice," she said, "I haven't exactly had the most pleasant reception among your type."

"We're trying to be welcoming." Van said and then a giddy expression came across his face that surprised Lisette. "Plus, I'm sure you've got _crazy_ stories about the Wasteland."

Lisette managed a laugh. "I guess I might. Me and my brother wandered around it my whole life. So, I'm sure I've got plenty."

"Brother? You have a brother?" Goodwin asked.

"I do… or did."

"Oh…" Van said, looking like he had been burned. "Sorry I asked."

"It's alright." Lisette affirmed, "He and I got separated and I'm not sure where he is right now… or if he's even alive."

Both of their eyes widened.

"Really?" Van exclaimed.

"What do you think happened to him?" Goodwin asked.

Lisette took a breath before responding. "I don't know, like I said. I'm hoping for the best though."

With that their conversation was over and the two guys said that they had shifts to take. They told Lisette that they had many more questions that they'd ask about at the next meal. Lisette didn't mind their questions and she'd answer anything they had but she was hurt by the thought of what happened to her brother.

As long as that old woman keeps her word about helping her find him then she was content… for the moment. She wondered when she would be able to see that woman again and she wondered what her name was? Brenda? Betty? Barbara? _Barbara._ Star Paladin Barbara… Connelly. Right. The one Lisette couldn't openly call a bitch.

For the rest of the morning and well into the afternoon, Lisette sat on her bunk. She assumed the bottom bunk and laid back, letting her mind fall blank. She took in the environment around her and was still baffled with how she got here in the first place. This was a miracle. It was _all_ a miracle; the fact she wasn't killed when she was laying in the Wasteland dying, that someone had found her and took her back to a place she could get medical treatment, the fact that she got threatened to be thrown out cold and offered a new life all in the same day… Lisette figured there was a bigger plan going on here. Someone was articulating this; it wasn't possible that this all happened on its own. Was it God? If God was real, he wouldn't have let the world lay in ruin. And yet it continued to lay in ruin.

Perhaps it was someone more mortal than God?

Lisette didn't think about it much longer. It made her head hurt.

Goodwin and Van showed up again after some hours. They both expressed surprise to seeing her where they had left her.

"Oh, you're still here?" Van asked, truly surprised.

"I don't have anything else to do." Lisette said.

"Well, right now, we're going to the mess. It's lunch and I'm _starving_." Van said, beckoning her to follow.

She had to admit, she was very hungry.

The mess hall was full of people and voices. She didn't recognize a single face and immediately felt awkward and that everyone was staring at her.. She did, however, look just like everyone else in the mess hall: shaved head and fatigues but she still felt she stuck out. Her skin was not the same. She was the black sheep among the flock of white. She stayed close to Goodwin and Van, as they knew their way around the place. Trays were given to them and topped off with food. It wasn't particularly appetizing food but the smell alone made Lisette's stomach growl. Food was food to her and the food she had been served the past few days had been the most appetizing food she could remember. The trio took their trays and found an empty table and began to eat.

Lisette made a conscious effort to make sure she didn't down her food in seconds. She was _starving_. She did eat fast and the two men caught that. They gave her surprised looks. "Hungry?" Van asked, rhetorically.

She just nodded, taking a sip of the hot beverage that had come with her meal. She continued to eat, keeping her head down. She preferred it that way. Less eye contact with the others around her the better it made her feel.

"Did you… uh, not eat much out there?" Goodwin asked, gesturing outward with his fork.

"Food was hard to come by," Lisette said, "sometimes, we went days without food. This is the first time in years I've been guaranteed food three times a day."

Van's eyes were wide. "Wow, that's _crazy…_ "

"Yeah, we're a little spoiled in here." Goodwin commented. "I can't remember the last time _I_ missed a meal."

"You are very lucky." Lisette said, bluntly.

"How did you get here?" Van asked eagerly.

"How much have you heard about me?" She asked back to him.

"Not much," Goodwin replied, "Elder Dimitri made an announcement to our division that we would be receiving a new recruit and that you were from the Wasteland and that we were expected to treat you like one of us. That's about it."

"So, how'd you get here?" Van persisted with interested eyes.

"Your guess is as good as mine. I don't know how I got here."

They both looked like they weren't expecting that answer, rather a more adventurous and courageous story. Unfortunately, it wasn't like that. Lisette still didn't know how her getting here made any sense.

"What do you mean?" Goodwin asked.

"You didn't wander up here on your own? Or did you?" Van said.

"No, no. I was brought here and definitely not as well as you see me now."

"Yeah, I noticed that you have… uh, _marks_ on your neck."

"Yeah, I think someone tried to…. strangle me. I also got a nasty black eye."

Goodwin and Van exchanged pale, terrified expressions. They stopped eating and had their full attention on Lisette. They were enthralled by her story and their faces urged her to continue. "Me and my brother were in a town called Megaton. I don't know if you've heard of that place…?" The pair shook their heads. "Anyway, some guy offered us work. And… as we started off to wherever he was gonna take us, that's where I don't remember a single thing."

"Do you think that guy… did something?" Van asked.

"Probably. My brother's gone and I was beaten up so, there's really no telling where my brother is or who that guy was… there's no answers and I don't think I'll be able to get any soon."

They both nodded and resumed eating, as if they realized that they were digging too much too far. It wasn't long until more people joined their table and Lisette found it hard to keep her eyes down. The way they all spoke to one another sounded as if they all knew each other fairly well.

Goodwin looked down the table before looking back at Lisette and said, "Why don't I introduce you to everyone?" He cleared his throat, "You already know me and Van," he pointed down the table and began naming everyone off, "That's Brigham, Taylor, Stevens… and Sutton… and Oster." Each person individually regarded her with their own greeting ranging from a small wave, a smile, a frown or no regard at all. She gave a small wave herself. There was one other girl aside from herself in their division. She remembered meeting her yesterday and she didn't sound excited to have another girl in their division. She was sitting beside Van and every so often, she glanced over in Lisette's direction with a judging and calculating look. Lisette decided she would be up front with her.

"Your name's Oster right?" she asked.

Oster hardly regarded her. She stiffened slightly and replied curtly, "Yeah."

"I don't think we got properly introduced earlier. My name's Lisette O'Brien." She offered her hand across the table.

Oster set her utensils down suddenly before saying, bitterly, "I don't want to shake your hand. We're not going to be friends."

"Oster, what is wrong with you? Could you pull your head out of your ass for two seconds and at least acknowledge the new Initiate?" One of the other Initiates at the table bit from farther down the table. Lisette remembered Goodwin referring to him as Stevens.

"I can shove my head wherever I please but I am _not_ going to shake a _Wastelander's_ hand." Oster persisted.

"Oster," Goodwin began with a grave and authoritative tone, "we have been ordered by the Elder to accept her as one of our own. If you have a problem with it, I would take it up with the Elder. Keep your opinion to yourself."

Oster stood up suddenly, taking her half-empty tray from the table. She glared directly at Lisette. "Nothing is going to change the fact you're still a _Wastelander_." With that said, she exited the mess hall, throwing her tray in the dispenser as she left.

Van sighed loudly. "Don't worry about her. She's not someone you want to be friends with anyway."

"What the _hell_ is her problem?" Lisette asked.

"She's always had this chip on her shoulder since she's the Head Scribe's daughter." The initiate called Brigham answered her from down the table.

"I bet she just enjoyed being the only girl and having all the attention…" Stevens laughed.

"Like I said, don't worry about her." Van reassured.

Lisette began to look at the people sitting around her as silence fell on the table. She _really_ look at them. They were clean, shaven, crisp-uniformed people with smooth, unblemished faces. Lisette had plenty of sunspots and a few plasma burns on her arms from close encounters with a group of well-armed raiders. All their eyes were bright and burning but Lisette's were dark and hollow. A few people had caught her looking at them but Lisette quickly averted her eyes. As much as she wanted to blend in, she felt she was doing the opposite.

Lisette knew that it would either come with time or it wouldn't come at all.

 _0552, April 17, 2280, Citadel, Courtyard, Initiate Bunkhouse_

" _Initiates_! Come to! _Atten-shun_!"

Lisette was thrown out of sleep and the blinding lights snapped on above her. Throwing herself up, adrenaline coursed through her. If she woke up to someone shouting, it was her brother and it was never good. But it wasn't her brother - it was Knight Linderman. And he could _yell_. As her eyes came to adjust, she noticed the other Initiates standing at their bunks, at what Lisette would assume "attention" was. She did her best to mimic their stance.

Knight Linderman, fully armored, filled the doorway with ease. The armor was something both inspiring and terrifying. It was large and cumbersome. The way he strode forward gave the impression that it was another layer of skin to him. His strides were fluid and it was _impressive_.

"Good morning, Initiates," Knight Linderman said and he began to walk up the line of Initiates, "Before we go over the proceeding for today, allow me to introduce the newest addition to the team, Initiate O'Brien. On the request of Elder Dimitri himself, make her feel welcome." He stopped in front of Lisette. He towered over her, especially in the armor. He didn't regard her much aside from a slight turn of his head. He continued, "Now, I hope you all slept well because we're going to have fun. For the next two hours, we'll be running. March forward, Initiates."

And run they did.

Lisette wouldn't consider herself out of shape but she wouldn't have considered herself to be healthy either. She was much more frail than the other Initiates and her endurance was not as good as theirs. They struggled, yes, but not as much as she did. She lagged a few feet behind the main group.

As they mindlessly ran in circles around the courtyard, Knight Linderman yelled taunts to them,"You think this is tough, Initiates? I had to outrun a behemoth once! _That_ was _tough_! _Oster_ , keep up!"

Lisette caught the glance of Goodwin who was about to pass her for second time. "What's a behemoth?" she asked, breathless.

"You don't wanna know!" he replied and ran past.

The two hours lasted longer than she thought but finally, Knight Linderman called them to and dismissed them. They would have weapons training at 1500. He left the group in the courtyard and Lisette felt like she was going to throw up. Doubled over, she focused on her breathing. Her lungs _ached_ and her legs were wobbly. Eventually, her knees gave and she fell to the ground, breathless.

Van came over to her and standing over her, he said, "Welcome to hell," he managed to laugh between gasping breaths.

Lisette shook her head. "That was _awful_."

"Get used to it because running is something Knight Linderman _loves_ to make us do. He assumes that we should all be able to outrun him. And that's not something that most do." Van said, "I believe a shower is in order after all of that." He offered his hand to help her up and she took it.

The group began for the bunkhouse to retrieve clothes and soaps for showering. As everyone gathered their belongings from their footlockers, Lisette did the same. Inside the footlocker, there were more items than she expected. She began to go through it, genuinely shocked at what was inside. There was a toothbrush, toothpaste, and soap contained in a small metal box. It was the first time in her life she had all of these luxuries given to her. She didn't know how she felt about it. She was thankful but surprisingly, shocked, baffled. _Three meals a day._ _A safe, secure place to sleep, soap, a toothbrush and toothpaste…._ She continued to dig and came up with two pairs of neatly folded, embroidered fatigues and a nicer more crisp uniform with thicker material and at the very bottom, there was a pair of holotags on a chain. They read: LISETTE O'BRIEN, OB-121. _And free, clean clothes. All for doing what they tell me to do._ Lisette wasn't entirely sure if it was a fair trade but in her current situation, it would have to do.

Lisette looked up to see Van staring at her. He started and cleared his throat before saying, "You should probably put those on and don't let Knight Linderman see you without them."

She stood up and put them around her neck. "How come?"

Van shrugged. "Dunno, I know it's protocol. It's the only form of ID we have."

" _Oh_ , I must really be one of you then if I have an _ID_."

Van laughed.

With a pair of clean fatigues and the box of toiletries in her hand, Lisette followed the group down to the showers and for the first time in years, she took a shower - a _real_ shower. The only type of bathing she had ever done was with various water pumps and even then, it wasn't the most pleasant experience. It kept her relatively clean. But nothing beat a good shower. For a while, she stood underneath the shower head, relishing the feeling of the water on her face.

After a while, she got dressed into her fatigues and found her way to the mess hall where breakfast was being served. It was only 0900 after all. She received a tray and she found herself a vacant table and began to eat.

For a while, she sat there for a while by herself and she didn't mind it. She focused on eating her breakfast and nothing else. Her body was fatigued and she desperately needed more sleep. The hot shower alone was making her tired and after she had a full stomach, she would be more so. Then the seat next to her was occupied.

It was Van. He had a cup of coffee in his hand and he said, "You were in the shower for a while."

Lisette was brought back by that comment. "So? I haven't had a real shower in years. Is there something wrong with that?"

"Oh! No, _no_. I was just wondering if you... got lost or something." He laughed off the slight pain there was in his voice.

Lisette raised an eyebrow. That was an awkward question. She was suddenly beginning to realize that Van seemed to gravitate towards her. She didn't know why but she had some guesses. But Lisette decided she would ask; wouldn't hurt, would it?

"You've been around me a lot. Any particular reason that is?" When the words came out of her mouth, they sounded harsh and accusatory. The look that came across his face was something she wasn't expecting.

His cheeks flared.

"Oh, well, since you're new, I figured… I figured you'd want someone to talk to and make you feel like you're accepted around here and…" That was all Lisette heard. He continued to drone on about something but Lisette saw someone enter the mess stopped eating and stiffened, all her attention at the person who had walked in.

It was Connelly. The Paladin. The entire mess hall hushed and the other Initiates in the room eyed her warily. Lisette couldn't tell if she was popular or wasn't popular around here. She wanted to talk to her but the Paladin looked busy and on her own agenda. But Lisette eyed her intensely, staring her up and down. She was dressed in a dark crisp uniform and her gray hair was pulled back into a slick updo. She reminded Lisette of what she would imagine a cat to look like; sleek, all angles, and very mysterious.

Paladin Connelly got herself coffee but as she turned to leave, she caught sight of Lisette staring at her. A minute curve came to her lips and she approached Lisette, willingly.

Van stopped his droning and stared blankly at the tall, powerful Paladin suddenly standing before them. Van jumped up and saluted the Paladin at the drop of a hat. The Paladin acknowledged him and then looked at Lisette.

"I was half-expecting you would do the same, _Initiate_." The Paladin remarked.

"I hope you didn't forget about our deal." Lisette said, ignoring her request for recognition. Van sat back down realizing that there was some conversation between the Paladin and the Initiate that he wasn't aware of.

"Oh, I haven't," The Paladin said, "but you haven't earned it yet."

Lisette's stomach knotted. "What do you mean _earn_ it?" She bit.

"Do your time and then we'll talk." With that said, she turned and left them. The mess hall resumed its chatter at her departure.

Van had a wide, terrified look on his face. "You _know_ Star Paladin Connelly? How do you know her?"

Lisette exhaled a tense, agitated breath. She stabbed at her food with her fork. "She… God, she's such a _bitch_." She said, taking a bite and managing a sadistic laugh.

Van nearly choked. " _O'Brien_ , you can't talk about Paladins like that! You can get in a lot of trouble for that!"

"It's hard to speak 'respectful' of her when she saves you from death and then tells you she'll only help you if you 'do your time'. Whatever the hell that means…"

"Wait… _she's_ the one who brought you here?" Van asked.

Lisette shrugged. "From what I've been told, yes."

"And what can she possibly help you with?"

"Finding my brother." Lisette said, deadpan. She finished the last bits of food on her tray and pushed it away from her.

"Oh…"

"Yeah. And at this rate, I'm sure he'll be dead by the time I can get her to even want to help me." Lisette stood abruptly, took her tray, and left Van sitting at the table. He didn't follow her.

She stormed off out of the mess hall. She didn't know where to go but she wanted to talk to someone. Or something to talk to and she knew who.

Lisette made her way to the medical bay.

" _Oh,_ Ms. O'Brien!" Pavlov cried, turning away from the person he was helping bandage, "It is so _lovely_ to see you! I'm so happy you decided to come visit me! My _goodness_ , you look so different with shorter hair!"

Lisette smiled. How could she feel unwelcome with a greeting like that? This Mister Handy was the nicest person she'd come in contact with in probably her entire life. At least the Wasteland hadn't made robots assholes too. Sawbones wasn't entirely an asshole but partially one. He was programmed to be the way he was so she couldn't blame him.

"Hey, Pavlov. Good to see you too. You seem awfully excited to see me." Lisette said.

"Well, of course I am! It's always good to see a familiar face! And I see you're doing much better, no?"

"I am."

" _Hello_?" The man who was seated on one of the bed snapped.

Pavlov whirled back to him and said, "Oh, I'm sorry. Allow me to finish you, Mister, before I glide off into another conversation!" The robot gave a hearty laugh.

He finished his business with the man and turned to Lisette.

"What brings you here, my friend?" Pavlov asked.

"Just wanted someone to talk to. I don't have anything to do until later this afternoon and I don't make friends easily." Lisette replied.

Pavlov's many eyes bounced happily. "Oh, I can keep you company, Ms. O'Brien! And I'd be happy to. No one ever comes to talk to me so I appreciate you thinking about me! Sawbones is always grumbling about something so it'll be nice to have someone around who doesn't grumble."

Lisette managed a small laugh. "Thanks, Pavlov. If you ever need me to do something that requires more… human hands. Just let me know, I'd be happy to help with anything. It's the least I can do for you since you had deal with my defiant attitude when we first met."

"Ms. O'Brien, you were no trouble at all! You were in poor condition and just needed some rehabilitation. I'm sure you and I will become great friends!"

 _1402, April 24, 2280, Citadel, Courtyard_

Knight Linderman's training division was into their third week of training and he had to say, they were doing remarkably well. Linderman always kept his expectations down low but he was getting noteworthy results from his division. Especially from that Wastelander - or _Initiate O'Brien_. She had at least earned that much.

When he had first met her, she had a mouth but he noticed she had a character about her that may have been a useful addition to his division and to the entire Brotherhood. He had spent enough time outside of the Citadel walls to realize that they weren't the only group trying to make ends meet in this world. He had been raised with staunch belief in all of the Brotherhood's codes and rules. However, he wasn't oblivious. When those rules had been written, times were very different. He didn't believe that the Brotherhood should be actively recruiting into the Wasteland but he wasn't opposed to accepting recruits from different backgrounds. He had never spoken his mind due to unpopular opinion and his rank but his thoughts recently were bursting at the seams. Yet, he kept his mouth sealed.

It had been an entire week since Initiate O'Brien had joined his division and she had proved to him that she did have a lot of traits that the rest of his division didn't. She was hardened and had a work ethic that he didn't see in the rest of the Initiates. The other Initiates were of Brotherhood origin and had lived a life cushioned by running water and three meals a day. Linderman knew O'Brien hadn't and it showed in her actions. The way she ran and did exercises and the way she followed the commands with a different glance in her eye. When Linderman issued a command, the Initiates would respond accordingly and perform their task with little to no opposition. O'Brien however, always made a point to express how she felt with her eyes. Taking orders was something she was always questionable of but whether she could follow them was not the question. She was studious in her studies and aced all of her quizzes and exams in their afternoon lessons.

Linderman also noticed she stood out in the way she ate her meals; she relished every bit. The Initiates often complained of the food from the mess hall and threw away most of it. But every meal for O'Brien ended with a completely empty tray. He watched her go from thin and frail to able-bodied and frankly, a healthy looking Initiate. All her actions led to Linderman's theory that she was incredibly motivated by something .Perhaps it was the brother she had mentioned to his during her evaluation. He didn't know for sure but she was _motivated_ and it showed. Linderman wasn't prone to getting to know his Initiates but he wanted to assess how she was doing and he would do so next chance he got.

One afternoon, he found himself alone, shooting targets in the bailey. He was lost in his thoughts as he listlessly fired his laser rifle. The targets were the farthest thing from realistic. Targets didn't yell, didn't scream, didn't bleed and targets definitely didn't shoot back. Linderman had to remind himself that this part of his division's training was purely physical and weapon and other various instructions, not combat oriented. That was the next tier.

Suddenly, he realized he wasn't alone anymore. Behind him, he noticed a figure leaning against the metal pole to the awning he stood under. It was O'Brien and she had a smirk on her face."You look bored." She remarked.

Linderman turned and greeted her, "Good afternoon, Initiate."

O'Brien put her fist to her chest, a salute.

"What can I help you with?" Linderman asked.

"Nothing, Knight. I was just wandering around, trying to find something to do until this afternoon's lesson."

"Do you find yourself with a lot of free time, Initiate?"

"No, sir. I'm usually in the medical bay doing work with Pavlov. Today, I finished early."

Linderman nodded and turned back to the targets. "I've been meaning to speak to you."

"Oh?" O'Brien came to his side. And then he realized how small she was compared to him. They were both in their standard issue fatigues but her boots didn't help her height any. He stood easily a foot above her.

He looked down the sights and fired off two shots. The head to the target exploded in a cloud of sand and cloth "You've been doing well. You stand out among the other Initiates. I didn't have high hopes for you because I wasn't sure how well you would take the change."

"If you didn't have high hopes for me, you wouldn't have cleared me." Lisette corrected.

"That's true. I had enough hope to clear you."

"Oh, _thanks_ , sir. That _really_ means alot to me." She said, very sarcastically.

"I'm being completely serious." He said, not amused by her sarcasm, "You're not a mindless grunt that does what I tell them to do and that's it. There's always a question in your eye, I noticed. I appreciate your difference."

O'Brien laughed drily. "Well, I've called the shots my entire life so someone telling me what to do is something I'll probably never get used to."

"You might as well. You could have a bright future here." O'Brien shrugged and Linderman fired off the remaining shots in the magazine. The target crumbled to the ground in a heap. He popped the heat sink with a sigh from the rifle. "You don't think so?"

"Not really."

"Why not?"

"I think the deeper I get into this, I'll realize it's like mixing oil and water."

"I wouldn't speak too soon."

"I'm almost positive that's the truth."

"I see…" Linderman said, under his breath.

O'Brien was an interesting character to Linderman. She was the type of person he hadn't ever dealt with extensively. He had encountered characters like her through patrols but it was on a less personal and less conversational circumstance. He had come to know that most Wastelanders on a more personal and more conversational situation were just like her: passionate, hardened and standoffish. They were certain in the ways and didn't conform. Perhaps, she would make a good soldier but it would take a lot of work.

"I suppose that answers the question I was going to ask about how you were handling things." Linderman said as gently as he could. He felt like he was already being too non-professional with her. He was her training officer after all.

"You're asking me how I'm doing?" O'Brien scoffed.

"Basically."

"I'm awful. I'm surrounded by strangers who all think like mindless ghouls and nothing like me. Everyone thinks I'm some sort of marvellous creature for knowing what it's like outside of here. Everyone looks at me like I don't belong and my brother's still out there somewhere and he'll be dead by the time I can get to him. How do you think I feel right now?"

Linderman wasn't expecting her response to be so poignant and bitter. He held back all temptations to dig deeper. It wasn't his place and this wasn't the time. He decided to be more off-beat instead. "I was hoping you would be thankful that you have three meals a day and a bed to sleep in but, to each his own."

She disregarded his remark. "But thanks for concern, _sir._ " Her tone didn't at all sound thankful. With that said, she turned on her heels and made her way across the bailey. It wasn't exactly how he had expected the conversation to progress and ultimately end. But at least, he talked to her. He wasn't worried about her. She was fitting in well enough but she couldn't see it.

Linderman sprayed an entire magazine into another target beside the other he had finished off. It also crumbled to the ground. A thought came across his mind as he watched an Initiate replace the target. O'Brien in a different world would have been someone Linderman wouldn't have minded sharing a few victories with and even being friends with. But unfortunately, he knew that wouldn't happen.

He was her training officer and she was his trainee. That was it.

Linderman returned his rifle to the armory and went to check his terminal for messages and there was one waiting for him in his inbox. It was from Elder Dimitri.

 _FROM: DM-001E_

 _TO: LN-085K_

 _SUBJECT: Check Up_

 _Knight,_

 _I'm contacting you with a request of a report of Initiate O'Brien's progress. I would like you to speak to her as soon as possible to assess how she is doing. With week five coming up, I'd like to have a clear idea of how Initiate O'Brien's status and whether I need to inform Star Paladin Connelly that she can commence sponsorship of her or otherwise._

 _With regard,_

 _Elder Dimitri_

* * *

 _FROM: LN-085K_

 _TO: DM-001E_

 _SUBJECT: Re: Check Up_

 _Elder,_

 _I spoke to Initiate O'Brien and I have assessed that she is doing well, much better than expected of her kind. I expect that she will be worthy of Star Paladin Connelly's sponsorship once first tier training has been completed. I will compile all Initiate O'Brien's progress into a report as soon as possible._

 _Signed,_

 _Knight Linderman_

 _1305, April 26, 2280, Citadel, A-Ring, Recreation Hall_

It was the division's free hours before the afternoon lesson and all eight Initiates were in the recreation hall sitting around a table for a game of cards. The table was large and round and all eight of them fit. On the table was multiple deck of cards. On one side of the cards there was an intricate red design and on the other side were either numbers and symbols or double-sided faces, accompanied by a "K", "Q" and "J". As well as these deck of cards, there were about over one hundred red caps splayed out on the table. Lisette hadn't ever seen that many caps in one place.

The division was chattering away excitedly for this game called Blackjack.

One of the Initiates by the name of Brigham was shuffling the cards expertly. "I live for this game." He said with a wide grin on his face.

"That's because you win all the time." Stevens scoffed.

"It's not my fault I'm a natural." Brigham replied unfazed by his jab.

"Did you ever play Blackjack out there?" Van asked Lisette who was sitting next to him.

Lisette shook her head. "Nope. I've never heard of it. I didn't have much time to sit down and play games."

"Makes sense. Well, let me explain it to you," Brigham began, "the magic number in this game is twenty-two. With each round, everyone puts in a bet and the dealer - me - will deal everyone cards one by one. Whoever can get closest to twenty-two without busting, wins the caps for that round."

"Brigham's the dealer because he wins all the freaking time." Taylor jabbed.

"That _and_ I'm the best shuffler." Brigham said.

"I've won quite a few games." Oster butted in.

"Whatever, Oster. You've won like _one_ game. Sit down." Taylor laughed.

"Something else you should know," Brigham said, "cards two to ten all are valued the same. Their number is their value. Ace, Jack, Queen, and King are different. Ace is either worth one or eleven and all the face cards are worth ten. Those are nice cards but can also screw you over in a second. Do you think you got all of that?"

"Sure." Lisette said.

"We'll play easy. But as soon as you start winning, we're going hardcore." Brigham smirked and then addressed everyone, "For the first round, let's all put in one cap. Start off nice and easy," The caps were divided evenly between the eight of them and everyone tossed a cap in the middle, "starting with you Sutton, let's begin."

And so the game began. Lisette wasn't confident she completely understood how the game worked but she focused on the fact that she couldn't get higher than twenty-two but had to hit it on the nose or get as close as possible. Brigham dealt cards to three others before he got the Lisette. She was nervous. He turned over the first card in front of her. An ace.

"What is that worth?" Lisette asked.

"One or eleven," Van said from beside her, "depending on what you turn over next with determine what you should consider it."

Lisette motioned for Brigham to flip another card.

A Jack.

Everyone chattered both excitedly and defeated to one another. "Oh _damn_ , she's almost at twenty-two already!" Taylor cried.

"Are you serious?! We just started!" Stevens scoffed.

"Is that good?" Lisette asked timidly.

"That's great!" Brigham said, "you're probably going to win this round. Everyone else has busted but we've still got a few more people."

He dealt to four more people and all were not as close to twenty-two as she was. So she won the first round and eight whole caps were pushed in her direction. She took them gladly with a smile. "This game is all about luck, isn't it?" she said.

Brigham nodded. "Pretty much. Luck and tactic. Guessing and strategy. Let's go again."

Each round, more and more caps were shoved into the center of the table and more and more caps went around the table. Stevens won a hand. Goodwin won a few. Even Oster. Lisette, however, hadn't won a single one except for the first hand. To her, she couldn't have cared less. Everyone was smiling and having fun. The atmosphere that had become of the recreation hall was an aura that put a contagious smile on everyone's face but mostly Lisette's. She hadn't ever felt a sense of camaraderie in her life and this is what she imagined it felt like. A group of people sitting around the table, laughing, smiling and having a good time with a good game of cards. Maybe, Lisette thought, she was getting along with the people around here.

Oster won the next hand. She had a thievish grin on her face as she gathered the nearly thirty caps from the center of the table.

"Okay, okay," Brigham said, calming the chattering table, "whoever wins two hands gets all the caps, deal?" Everyone clambered happily. It was a challenge they were all willing to take. "All caps in." With all one hundred caps sitting in a disorderly pile in the center of the table, Brigham began dealing the next hand.

Once he got to Lisette, she had opposition. Taylor had nineteen, which was extremely close to twenty-two. And her first card dealt was a Queen. She thought for a moment. If she hadn't been winning the last few hands, it was because she was studying how the game worked. It was luck, yes, but as Brigham had said, it was strategy. The face cards were a one-way ticket to winning or busting. She decided she would have another card dealt. Another Queen. The table cried out in defeat. She put her hands down and stayed. The only way someone else would win is if they too drew twenty or twenty-one.

Brigham dealt the rest of the table but none got as close as she did and with that, she was in the running for getting the jackpot of one-hundred caps.

Again, Brigham began to deal. This time, Lisette gauged her plays wrong and busted with a horrible score of thirty. She was dealt a Jack at the last moment. She still had a chance. Oster had the winning hand with a seven, six and eight. Lucky hand.

"Get ready to eat shit, Wastelander." Oster sneered.

"Oster, watch your mouth." Goodwin warned.

"Watch it, Oster." Lisette said, watching Brigham shuffle the cards.

" _You_ watch it. I've won quite a few games and I'm not losing today."

Brigham started dealing the cards. This time, once he reached Lisette, everyone had busted before her or stayed too low. Brigham dealt her a two. She drew and a five was dealt. Then a six. And then a seven. Twenty. Her heart was rammed into her throat. She wanted to win desperately and beat Oster, show her that the Wastelander can outplay a hoity-toity Brotherhood brat. She thought for a moment but knew if she wanted to go bold, she would go bold. She drew and Brigham drew a two.

Twenty-two.

The table sprang to life with cheers and groans.

Lisette had the biggest smile on her face. There was no way they would be able to beat a solid twenty-two. And no one could. Oster busted and the rest couldn't quite get to that sweet double-digit.

Van gave her a big pat on the back. "Look at you, O'Brien! You wrecked shop!"

"I've got to say, you've got a knack for this game." Brigham commented.

"Hey, we gotta put you and Brigham against each other. I'm sure she'd smoke him!" Stevens laughed.

The entire table was in smiles as they pushed the caps in front of Lisette. It was a sight to see. For someone who had struggled with only ten caps to her name, seeing one hundred sitting in front of her was quite overwhelming. But at the same time, she was loving every bit of it. Everyone was ecstatic for her except for Oster, who was scowling across the table with a death grip on the cards in her hands. And she was glaring straight at Lisette.

Lisette caught sight of her and smirked. "I told you to watch yourself, Oster."

"You're so full of it."

"Oh, _I_ am?" Lisette gave a sadistic laugh, "I'm sure you have _no idea_ what it's like to live off of just ten of these things." Lisette grabbed a handful of caps and tossed them toward her.

Oster's face twitched angrily. "You're so full of yourself because all you've talked about is how _horrible_ things were for you. Like you're looking for a goddamn pity-party all the time. Nobody around gives a shit about you."

" _Oster_ , shut up! You have no idea what you're talking about." Van barged in Lisette's defense.

"You don't have to defend her, Van. I'm sure she's fully capable of that on her own." Oster continued to prod and Lisette wasn't having it anymore.

She stood up and decided she would address the problem head on. "What the _hell_ is your problem? Ever since I got here, it's like you've got something out for me. If I've done something wrong, _please_ , by all means, let me know. I'd _love_ to help you come to terms with it."

Goodwin grabbed Lisette's shoulder. "O'Brien." He warned with a low voice.

She shrugged him off. "No, no. I want to know. I understand I'm not the most liked person here but you have given me so much shit for so little reason. I've dealt with a lot worse people than you, sweetheart. I'd suggest you'd stop before I get pissed. I'm _really_ trying to like you."

Oster was fuming. "You've got nerves talking like that around here, _Wastelander_."

Lisette choked out a laugh. "You make it seem like 'wastelander' is an insult but frankly, I'm _flattered_. You're the only one around here that acknowledges me for who I really am. So _thanks_." She gave her a callous grin.

Goodwin stood abruptly to match the two women. "Stop it _right now_ , both of you. This is absolutely ridiculous. I can't believe you two are at it over a card game…"

The look that came over Oster's face was something Lisette couldn't judge, until she said, "I'm good friends with Knight Linderman, so you better watch your mouth."

Stevens groaned loudly and said, "Oh give us a _fucking_ break, Oster. Not this shit again."

"Stevens, language…" Van reminded with a sigh.

"I'm sorry, but I'm so _tired_ of her ranting and raving about how good of friends she is with him. Has anyone actually _seen_ them talk? He doesn't even look at you!" Stevens cried.

"We talk during our off hours!" Oster cried back at him.

"I'm almost certain you two don't talk." Sutton added quietly.

Lisette cut back into the conversation."I couldn't give two shits if you're 'really good friends' with him or not. I don't care."

"If you two don't cut it out, I'll be talking to Knight Linderman about what went on here and I imagine he will not be happy." Goodwin said finally.

Oster crossed her arms over her chest defiantly.

Lisette exhaled slowly before saying, "Listen, how about we just… leave each other alone. It's obvious you don't like me and I don't like you. It'll cause less problems if we don't talk at all. Okay? Alright…"

Oster scoffed disgusted and threw her cards at Lisette, before leaving the recreation hall in a hurry. The rest of the division sighed with relief at her departure and began to clean up the mess they had made. Their afternoon lecture would be starting within the hour.

Lisette stood still for a while, lost in her mind before she turned around to see Van staring at her with a concerned look on his face. He opened his mouth to say something but Lisette spoke first. "Seriously, what did I do?"

Van's face fell as he stepped past her to gather the caps into a sac. He shook his head. "Like I said the first day you were with us, don't worry about her…"

"Van, how can I _not_? She's so hostile toward me for _no reason_. I've pissed off plenty of people in my life but I always given them a reason. But not her."

He turned to her with a very heavy sac full of clattering caps and gave it to her. "I don't think I can give you a good enough reason then."

Lisette took the sac from him with a sigh.

"You're liked here, regardless of what she says." Van assured her with a slight smile on his face.

Lisette rolled her eyes and started to leave. "Whatever. That's not true."

"He means it, O'Brien," Taylor pitched in from the other side of the room, "most of us like you. And I say _most_ of us."

Lisette didn't believe them. Oster's behavior was overriding any progress she was making with accepting her current situation. For a moment, she was starting to believe that she fit in around here but that was coming to an abrupt halt. It had been over a week since she had began her training here and throughout the past week, Oster found little ways to shove her two cents into everything she possibly could. Lisette didn't like the constant nagging and it was starting to rub her the wrong way. Lisette had always had a long fuse but if someone gives you a reason to question that fuse, then it was worth the fight. Despite that, she meant it when she said that she wanted both of them to leave each other alone. Eye for an eye. It would make things easier on everyone and Lisette didn't want to jeopardize her position here. She knew she was treading on thin ice from the moment she got here and anything negative associated with her was a crack in that ice.

She didn't want to jeopardize the chance of her finding her brother. It was what made her want to wake up in the morning and do better than everyone around her. It was the motivation in everything she did here and without it, she would be hopelessly lost. If anything, she knew that someone poking and prodding at her wouldn't get in the way of that.

Van put a hand on her shoulder and said, "The afternoon's lesson is about to start. We'd better all get going." He gave her an earnest smile before turning to leave the recreational hall.

Lisette followed suit and fell back into the routine that she was becoming more comfortable with every day.

 _0723, April 28, 2280, Citadel, Courtyard_

It was a typical morning for Knight Linderman's training division. Adorn in his power armor, he watched his division run laps around the bailey.

He was impressed with their progression and it filled him with much pride. It was all affirmation that he had finally found what he was good at. Patrols were okay and reconnaissance was mediocre but training was something that called to him. And training officers were always in short supply so Linderman was more than happy to help.

But all he could seem to think about what Initiate O'Brien. She was truly proving to be quite the initiate. Linderman would dare to say poster child but he wouldn't vocalize that thought to anyone. It was true - the question on her face and in her eyes was what set her apart and Linderman knew she would be a nice asset to the Brotherhood. She questioned things and didn't look blindly past orders; she contemplated them. He could all see it happening on her face. But with the initiates standing around her, they were blank, expressionless. He was glad that at least someone had any sign of life in them. Perhaps a good place to look for recruits was the Wasteland, the very place that birthed the monsters they trained to destroy. Again, he would not vocalize his thoughts because recruiting from the Wasteland was a gamble. You would either get initiates like O'Brien or you would get less cooperative initiates that would seek to destroy the Brotherhood from the inside out. And that was definitely a concern.

He then remembered her attitude and his thoughts darkened. Her attitude was less than pleasant but he could imagine it was what had given her all twenty-two years of her life. Linderman had interacted with plenty of Wastelanders to know that it was their personalities and attitudes that got through most of the terrors of the Wasteland. She was _almost_ a perfect initiate. But what could he say? She was still one of the best he had ever seen. She could run longer, faster and shoot straighter than any other initiate. He knew she would clear for power armor training.

As he was about to call his division to, he saw a ripple in their formation. He straightened himself to look clearer. A cloud of dust appeared and someone tumbled to the ground.

And they didn't move.

He halted his division with a shouted order and ran to the initiate who was sprawled on the ground. As he came closer, he saw it was O'Brien.

She groaned something and lifted herself from the ground. She was covered in a layer of dust and dirt. But she had an angry glance in her eye back toward the formation which was halted a few feet away.

"Initiate, come to! Are you hurt?" Linderman barked as he approached.

O'Brien took her time standing up and she saluted the Knight. "No sir."

"What happened?"

"I tripped, sir."

"Fall in."

O'Brien jogged back to the formation to fall in.

Linderman wasn't stupid. Something was up. He made his way to his formation and called them to attention. He paced around them, looking at their flushed faces, streaming with sweat. The two faces he had in his focus were O'Brien's and Oster's who were side by side. As O'Brien fell back in, she had an edgy look about her. Her eyes darted to Oster. Oster's eyes darted to O'Brien's. It wasn't the first time he had had initiates taking swings at each other but he expected it from his male initiates, and never his females. He didn't mind being proven wrong but he _would not_ tolerate it one bit. But he wouldn't call them out. Instead, he would keep his eyes on both of them. He hadn't seen any other questionable behavior from either of them in that regard before this point. He seriously hoped he wouldn't start having a problem with them.

Oster was odd to say the least. He tried to avoid her at all costs. He sensed she had issues that hadn't ever been assessed or evaluated. She had a tongue on her and she was extremely dramatic. He had heard of the other initiates talk about her quite often and not for a good reason.

"Three more miles. _Forward_." And off they ran again.

As Linderman started for his usual area to observe them, he spotted a familiar figure accompanied by a Gutsy across the bailey. It was Star Paladin Connelly. Linderman hadn't seen her in a few days. She was in a hurry towards the Laboratory and Gladys, her Gutsy, whizzed behind her to keep up. He decided he would try to have a chat with her. Besides, after his division was cleared through the first tier of training, she would be sponsoring one of his initiates. Naturally, he wanted to have a word with her about it or to establish a meeting so they could do so. He started towards Paladin Connelly and Gladys was the first one to notice and acknowledge him.

" _Hello_ , Mr. Linderman! How are you doing today? _Look_ , Ms. Connelly, it's Mr. Linderman!" Gladys never failed to be cheery.

Paladin Connelly stopped abruptly and spun around. She had her helmet in his hands and a large laser rifle slung on her back. Linderman figured she was heading to the Laboratory to speak with the Elder. But he decided to be nosey.

He saluted her politely but she didn't return it, instead she snapped at him, "Is it urgent, Knight? I have orders to attend to."

"When would be the most convenient time for you and I to speak?" He asked.

She looked at him with furrowed brows. "What's this about?"

"Initiate O'Brien will be cleared for second tier training soon and I would like to speak with you before you begin your sponsorship of her to establish your responsibilities and parameters as sponsor."

Paladin Connelly didn't miss a beat. "Knight Linderman, I have been extremely busy with my current objective and my free time is very limited."

"Any moment you can spare before May 11th?"

Paladin Connelly bristled and exhaled quietly. She was bothered by his request but Linderman knew that it was unavoidable. He _had_ to speak to her at some point before then. "Next week. May 3rd."

"Yes, ma'am. Do you know where my office is?"

"Yes, I do. Thank you for your concern but I _need_ to go. Steel be with you, Knight."

And with that, Gladys wished him a good day and the pair left.

Linderman couldn't help but laugh to himself a little. She did the good deed in saving O'Brien from death but now it seemed as if she doesn't want anything to do with her.

Her current objective must be _really_ important. But Linderman doubted it.

 _1542, April 30, 2280, Megaton_

A tall, dark armored pair stood at the tall gates of Megaton demanding entry, while the Protectron continually denied them. After several minutes of hackling, a whistle came down from the top of the gates. There stood a dark man in a wide-brimmed hat with an assault rifle in his hands. "What do you two want?" He called down to them "Get lost. You're kind is not welcome here."

"We're looking for someone." The man of the pair called back up.

"Who?"

"If you've got any bit of kindness in you, you better open this gate." The woman of the pair shouted up to the man, "We're looking for a man and woman. We think they may have come through here recently and they're missing. They might be dead."

The man paused before saying, "Hand over your rifles to the Protectron. We don't want anyone getting shot." The man disappeared from the top of the gate. The armored pair complied and handed their weapons over to the Protectron. A minute passed by before the gate opened with a harsh grinding noise, just enough for someone to pass through. The man with the large hat appeared and aimed his rifle at the pair.

"Missing you say? We haven't had anyone pass through here in a month." The man told them, his voice considerably lower.

"Do you keep track of who comes through here?" The man of the pair asked.

The dark man looked genuinely offended at his question. "Of course I do! I don't write it down but I got a knack for faces. Who are you looking for?"

"We don't know their names. All we know is that they were a young man and woman. We have reason to believe they were brother and sister."

"I don't recall anyone of that sorts." the man replied.

"Do you mind if we have ask around? Perhaps someone else has."

"You have _two_ hours. The names Lucas Simms, the sheriff of this city and if I get any complaints from anyone here then we've got a _serious_ problem. Got it?"

The pair complied and they were allowed entry.

Megaton was not a glamorous settlement by any means. It was dirty, haphazard and the people living in it were just as dirty. The settlement's crown jewel was sitting in the center of it all: a giant, dormant bomb from Pre-War times. It was a miracle it hadn't blown up but there was always the question if it really was dormant. Even by the looks of it, it made the pair edgy.

The woman knew where to begin. She spotted a small, outdoor bar where a woman was serving a few people food and drinks. If the pair had come through here, they would have eaten at some point in time. The man followed the woman and they approached the bar. The two men sitting at the pair stopped their eating and turned to stare at the heavily armored pair approaching. One of them men smirked and continued to eat while the other had wide eyes. By the looks of him, he was young and he obviously hadn't seen someone in full power armor before.

"Keep your eyes to yourself, local." The woman snapped and the young man abruptly turned away and continued to eat the food in his hand.

The woman at the bar scanned the pair up and down. She didn't look intimidated at all. Arm folded across her chest, she asked, "Can I help you two with anything?"

"We're looking for a man and a woman." The tall, armored woman said.

"Okay? I haven't seen anyone come through here in weeks…" She opened her mouth as if she was about to say something but closed it. Her eyebrows furrowed and then her face became sad. "Well, there was this young man and woman that came through here about a month ago. But I haven't seen them since."

"What did they look like?" The woman demanded.

"They looked very similar, both had black hair. The woman had pretty long hair and her brother had a red ball-cap on. But like I said, they weren't here very long. They got breakfast here twice and that's the last time I saw them."

"Do you recall their names?"

"No"

It was something and something was better than nothing.

"But," the woman at the bar piped up before the pair turned away, "they did head up to the Craterside Shop up there. Maybe you could talk to Moira. She might know where they went."

The pair gave her a polite tip of their heads and were off.

"I hope you find them…" the woman added underneath her breath.

As the pair entered the shop, they were greeted by a very unpleasant smell coming through the vents of their helmets. The shop owner popped up from behind the counter and welcomed them, telling them to not mind the smell. She had fire red hair and it was probably the brightest color in all of the Wasteland.

"Have you seen a man and a woman come through here within the past month?" the woman of the pair asked the shopkeeper.

The shopkeeper didn't appear to be shaken by the two, armored people standing before her. She tapped her chin, thinking. "Well, it's been about a month since I've seen anyone new come through my shop... Oh, _yes!_ I remember now. There was a man and a woman. Why do you ask?"

"Not exactly. We need to know anything you know about them."

Then a smirk grew on the face of the shopkeeper and she asked, "Now, what would two Outcasts need to know about two Wastelanders?"

"That's none of your business."

The shopkeeper didn't look pleased with that answer. This woman was smart. "There was a rough looking man talking to them before they left my store. I didn't hear their conversation but I have reasons to believe that he might have been of the bad type. Possibly a slaver. There have been quite a few wandering through here lately. Hope that helps and if you're not planning on buying anything, I would encourage you to leave. Have a nice day!"

That was all the information the pair needed. Within half an hour, they left Megaton behind.

"Slavers huh?" The man of the pair said to the woman.

The woman replied, as the two disappeared into the Wasteland."If he's lucky."

 _0825, May 3, 2280, Citadel, B-Ring, Office B4_

Knight Linderman sat in his office, hands together, waiting for the door of his office to open. Paladin Connelly would be there soon. They had agreed to speak in his office at 0830 about her sponsorship.

Linderman had a lot of questions. Why would someone like herself bother with a Wastelander? Why was she so adamant on becoming O'Brien's sponsor if she appeared to be agitated by it more than anything else? But he was more interested in knowing what she knew about O'Brien. He imagined they had spoken more and he wanted to know more about her. He could make a lot of assumptions about her but he wanted reliable information.

The door to his office chimed and he approved the entry.

Filling the doorway with ease stood Paladin Connelly. She was dressed in her dark casual uniform with her grey hair slicked back into a tight bun at the base of her skull. Linderman stood to address her with a salute and invited her to sit across the desk in an arm chair. She took the seat and Linderman sat down, clearing his throat, "Thank you for taking time out of your schedule to speak with me, Star Paladin."

She didn't say anything. Her eyes scanned him meticulously. Her hands were folded neatly on her thighs and she sat straight as a board, chin pulled up in a slight tilt. She finally nodded in recognition to his thanking.

The Star Paladin was something else. She was stubborn, hard-headed and impossible to understand. Her motives were never clear and constantly shadowed in mystery. She was someone who had unlimited secrets that she would never divulge and seen and committed things that were not spoken of. Linderman was expected to treat her with utmost respect but he found that he couldn't speak courteously to her. She wasn't a lady. She was a sly character.

"I wanted to touch base with you about Initiate O'Brien." He continued.

"How is she doing?" she asked.

"Very well. She is adapting well for someone of her background."

"She's doing as I expected."

"May I say something… blunt, Star Paladin?" Linderman decided he wouldn't beat around the bush. He was too eager for answers.

One of her thin grey eyebrows arched in question. He could see a slight tension come across her face. "What is it?" She asked.

"I don't understand why you saved her."

She looked somewhat relieved once he spoke. Her face resolved the tension and resumed its placid naturality. "I already told you, Knight. I felt compelled to save her and I felt it was the right thing to do."

" _Yes_ , I know that. But…" He paused, trying to find words that wouldn't be outwardly offensive but after a few seconds, he knew it was useless. He decided he would speak his mind. "You're not a very affectionate person. So I find it hard to believe that that was your motive."

"What are you suggesting, Knight?" the Paladin asked harshly. There was an edge in her voice that made Linderman's heart skip a beat. Yet her face was serene as ever.

"I'm sure you must have had something in mind when you brought her back here." He was being bold but he wanted answers. He knew something else was going on.

"You're exactly right, Knight. I did have something else in mind. But you're portraying me as having malevolent intentions, when I have much bigger and more important reasons for what I did." Linderman expected her to leave it at that but she continued to his surprise, "You and I both know where the Brotherhood stands right now, Knight. We are unstable and have no clear heading for our future. As someone who has spent their entire life dedicated to the Brotherhood, I'm appalled at the lack of progress we are making. So, I intend to do something about that."

Linderman swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. He wasn't expecting that. Suddenly, he was nervous, _very_ nervous. He wasn't sure what she was getting at but it made his brain scream wrong. However, he pressed her to continue.

"We're not strong anymore. And that's the truth. We operate with a false pretense that we are an all-powerful force in this Wasteland. But we're _not_. We're a group of perhaps one hundred hapless, privileged and wanna-be Brothers and Sisters of Steel. It's very _embarrassing_ how much strength and capacity we've lost in six years.

"The reason I saved her was to prove a point. Our obsession with exclusivity has to end if we're expected to make any progress in the next few years. We are selfish for keeping our technologies to ourselves. We have clean, running water and plenty of food, yet the entire Wasteland lays in ruins outside of these walls. It would be in our best benefit to realize that we're not the only ones here trying to make ends meet and perhaps extending our care to the less fortunate is a way to begin a better path for the Brotherhood. Bringing her in here has begun to turn some wheels in some people's heads. It only takes one push to get a ball to roll down a hill."

When the Paladin spoke, Linderman was inspired. His nervousness became excitement. He agreed with her wholeheartedly. For years, he had made the same observations and had come to the same conclusions. What had kept him from speaking up was his rank. He was just a Knight. But _she_ was a Star Paladin.

The Wasteland would definitely benefit from the various technologies that the Brotherhood possessed. He had seen the lowest of low and the poorest of poor. The Wasteland was starving for a chance to regain a sense of normality. And he was confident the Brotherhood could deliver that.

A small smile came to his lips as he said, "I agree with you, Star Paladin. I've thought the same way for years but never had the chance to speak my mind. You stole the words right from my mouth." He was beginning to realize that the Star Paladin was an incredibly smart woman. She had brought O'Brien here to show everyone that Wastelanders have a chance of becoming as good as any other Brother or Sister of Steel. She brought her here to prove that the Wasteland not only gave birth to monsters but to things that were worthy of their respect. She did it to plant a seed in the minds of everyone in the Citadel. And the seed was beginning to grow inside of Linderman. He was ecstatic. His mind raced.

"Do you understand me now?" she asked.

He nodded. "Completely."

"Good."

"I think I can answer the next question of why you would want to be her sponsor. But I think I understand well enough. You do have some responsibilities being a sponsor. In about a week, my division will be undergoing the last test that will qualify them to the next tier of training. The next tier will consist of virtual reality training, power armor training and more advanced weapons training. Will you be able to manage two days a week of one-on-one training with her?"

"Yes."

"Good. I will let you know what you should be focusing on but you have as much free reign as you want, Star Paladin. The other five days, she will be with the rest of the division. So, do as much as you please. With some discretion, of course. But I know I won't have to worry about that."

She nodded.

"Excuse my questions, ma'am, but I'm curious - what's her story?"

The Paladin gave a sly half-smile, implying something promiscuous. "Interested, Knight?"

Linderman stiffened. His face flushed. "No, _no_ ," he insisted forcibly, "nothing like that. I'm just curious."

By the look on the Paladin's face, she wasn't buying it. Although, her smile diminished. "I don't know much. She isn't willing to speak personally with me. I'm sure that will change when I become her sponsor."

"I know she has a brother." he said.

"Yes, she made that very clear."

"I can't imagine what kind of life she and her brother had. It must have been terrible…"

"I'm sure it was."

There was a long pause between them before Linderman knew that their conversation was over. It was brief but he was happy with the way it had turned out. The Star Paladin was hard to communicate with but he found more respect for her after their conversation.

He let out a breath before saying, "Thank you for your time, Star Paladin. That's all I wanted to speak with you about."

She gave him a curt nod and stood.

Linderman stood and just before she turned to leave, he said, "And ma'am? I'm glad we have the same ideas about the Brotherhood. It's reassuring to know that someone who has more power than I shares those thoughts."

"I can assure you, Knight, that those thoughts and ideas will become a reality." With that, she gave him one more curt nod of good-bye and dismissed herself from his office, leaving Linderman with a feeling that roused a new excitement inside of him he hadn't felt in years.

 _1838, May 4, 2280, Citadel, A-Ring, Mess Hall_

It was dinner time and all the Initiates were in the mess hall eating. Lisette tried her hardest to keep her head down and eat her dinner but she couldn't help but pay more attention to Oster who was entertaining a group of men about something ridiculous for sure. She was sitting a few seats farther down the table and Lisette was _disgusted_. In normal circumstances, she couldn't have given two shits to what she was doing but the longer she thought about Oster the more made she got and the more mad she got, the more she wanted to do something about it...

Goodwin nudged her shoulder, "You've got a death grip on that fork, O'Brien. You alright?"

She hadn't realized it. She shrugged dismissively.

Goodwin then looked in the direction Lisette was and understood. He nodded his head slowly, "Ah, I see," and then he said in warning, "Don't try anything."

"I wouldn't encourage her," Van said to Lisette from across the table, "She's got eyes for you too, O'Brien, so I wouldn't try anything."

"Oh, I'm not planning on it..." she paused, stabbing at the ground meat on her tray, "not unless _she_ wants to."

"Definitely _not_." Goodwin snapped, "Knight Linderman would be all over you if you and Oster decided to have at it."

"But, I'm not the aggressor." Lisette pointed out.

"Doesn't matter. Any type of behavior like that comes with punishment."

Lisette scoffed and continued to eat her dinner.

"Hey O'Brien!" Brigham called from down the table, "Tell us another story."

With that the whole table began to clammer happily and Lisette couldn't hold back a smile. Her fellow initiates couldn't resist a good "Wasteland Story" as they called it. Last dinner time, she told them the story about encountering a mother yao guai and her cubs and then getting chased all the way into the Potomac River. Another time she told that her and her brother found the entrance to Rockopolis. Of course, they didn't believe her but it was still a good story. It was becoming something of a tradition and Lisette got a kick out of it because her stories weren't anything spectacular. In fact, they would have been quite mediocre to a Wastelander audience but to a bunch of clean Brotherhood initiates who hadn't seen a single inch of Wasteland soil outside the Citadel, they were gold. But what would she tell them today? She didn't have to do much thinking before a good story came to her mind, one that still gave her chills. At that moment, she completely forgot about Oster.

"I got a good one," she told them. The group leaned in, smiles from ear to ear on all of them around her, "Ever heard of Deathclaws?"

The group clammered excitedly.

"This one time, me and my brother were looking around… southwest of here near an old highway. There were a few abandoned houses and we were looking through them for food or anything that was worth scavenging. It wasn't long until we heard something outside…. a nasty growling. Like a yao guai but _worse_ …. A growl that could send chills up a Super Mutant's spine. We had to hide in the corner of the house. And I looked through the holes in the boards and - I'll never forget it - this thing stood as tall as the house and it had _long_ claws and _sharp_ teeth and it-"

"Did you shoot it?!" Van demanded.

"No, _no_ , you _can't_ shoot them. It's not worth your life. They'll rip you to shreds quicker than you can shoot off any rounds!" she replied.

Stevens nudged Van nd joined, "Yeah! I've heard about them in some holotapes and _man_ , you don't wanna _fuck_ with them guys!"

"Yeah, you don't." Lisette agreed.

"A deathclaw?" Oster asked from farther down the table.

Lisette leaned in and replied down the table, "Yes, a deathclaw. Are you deaf?"

"Knight Linderman said he's killed one before." she said matter-of-factly.

Everyone at the table reacted very visibly and very vocally. They all looked at her in disbelief and annoyance.

"Oh come _on_ , Oster..." Stevens groaned.

"Yeah, whatever. You're making that up. He's _never_ said that to us." Taylor pointed out.

"He never told _us_ about it but he's told _me_ about it." Her emphasis on certain words implied something entirely different. Not many picked up on it but Lisette didn't care one bit about her or what she had to say. "He's told me all about it in private."

"Who the hell cares?" Lisette cried, "stop stealing my thunder, alright? You can survive a few minutes without everyone _beaming_ at you, Oster!"

" _Excuse_ me?" Oster cried back at her.

"You are the most persistent asshole I think I've ever met! I told you to leave me alone but _noo_ , you _have_ to keep at it, don't you?!"

Goodwin grabbed O'Brien's tense shoulder and shook her. "Hey! _Stop it_. Both of you! This is ridiculous!"

O'Brien shrugged off his shoulder. "She's the one that started this. If you're going to pick fights, you better know who you're dealing with and you _don't_ want to fuck with me, sweetheart. I haven't survived this long because I'm beautiful. Why don't you mind your own goddamn business and leave me _alone_ like I said a few days ago?"

Oster stood abruptly with her tray and with her nose upturned, she said, "Wait until I tell Knight Linderman about this."

"You know what, go ahead, _tell him_! I can guarantee he won't listen to your bitching or your bullshit, Oster. You're a liar and a spoiled brat!" O'Brien stood and squared off with Oster a few feet away. " I'm warning you, if you're going to try anything else, I would suggest you forget it because next time, I'm gonna punch your fucking face in." O'Brien hadn't felt this way in a long time. The tenseness in her shoulder, the balled fists at her sides and her heart was racing. The last time she felt this way she was…

Then a thought dawned on her.

She immediately felt sick at the realization. The last time she had felt this way, she and her brother were fighting for their lives. A man had lured them into the middle of nowhere and they were assaulted. Everything they owned was stripped from them… _they_ tookher brother with them.

She _remembered!_ The man at Megaton! He had lured them away with a promise of work and then he mugged Lisette and her brother, left Lisette for dead and took Orson to only god knows where.

She _remembered_.

Lisette was thrown out of mind by a loud cry from Oster and a tray hitting her face, splattering its contents all over her. A new and hot anger boiled up and burst through Lisette and she lunged at Oster.

And then, chaos ensued.

The mess hall erupted in shout and chairs screeching across the concrete floor, and the sounds of two women screaming, scratching and punching at each other. Other initiates tried to pry the two women off of each other but to no avail.

Lisette ripped her way out of Van and Goodwin who were grabbing at her and screaming at her to stop. She threw a solid punch across Oster's jaw, sending her flat onto her back. Oster kicked Lisette in the gut, scrambled up and threw her to the ground heavily.

Then, a bellowing voice cut through the turmoil and stopped everyone dead.

"Initiates _, stand down_!"

Suddenly, a strong arm came around Lisette's torso and yanked her backward off Oster. She was hoisted off of the ground. Lisette struggled to pry herself away but the arm was too strong. It wasn't until she stopped thrashing that she realized the arm belonged to someone in power armor and that the voice belonged to... Knight Linderman. Lisette looked up to see his helmet scowling at her. Lisette knew he was _furious._

Another Knight had Oster restrained. She had a nasty bruise on her cheek and angry scratches on her neck. The carnage of their brawl could be seen with the abrupt silence. Chairs were tipped over on the floor, the tray Oster had thrown was discarded a few feet away and Lisette was covered in their dinner. Oster stared at Lisette with pure disgust.

" _Initiates,_ come to!" the initiates snapped to attention, "report to your bunks _now_." Without a single world, six of the eight initiates hurriedly made their way out of the mess hall to their bunks, leaving a few paladins and knights shaking their heads at the scene that remained.

Knight Linderman set Lisette down and grabbed her by the shoulder, spinning her around. " _Both_ of you are going to clean this entire mess hall from top to bottom and then you're going to report to my office. Is that _understood_ , Initiates?"

"Yes sir." Oster replied quietly.

Knight Linderman looked down at Lisette who avoided his gaze and didn't respond. He released her shoulder and addressed the Knight that had restrained Oster. "Knight McDaniels, oversee that this place is _spotless_."

With that, Knight Linderman turned and exited the mess hall, apologizing to the mess hall officer on the way out.


	3. Part 3: The Senior Initiate

**PART III: THE SENIOR INITIATE**

 _1910, May 4, 2280, Citadel, B-Ring, Office B4_

Knight Erik Linderman sat at his desk and stared at the two initiates standing before him at parade rest, trying to make sense at what had happened earlier that evening. One of them had a deep purple bruise on her cheek and scratches on her neck and face while the other was covered in the dried remnants of the evening's dinner. Both of them had their heads down, avoiding the eyes of their training commander. From what he gathered from the other initiates, they were arguing and then started throwing trays and punches. He had also gathered that their feud was a long-standing one. The outbreak in the mess hall was the accumulation of previous incidences.

He was baffled to say the very least with the whole situation. He couldn't believe it had happened but he was more confused about how he had managed to miss the warning signs. However, he had never expected it to end in a fight. Never in his time as a training officer had any of his initiates fought with one another.

As confused as he was, the only thing that burned inside of him red and hot was anger and embarrassment. He could hear it now. Word would spread across the Citadel like fire and all the Knights and Paladins would tell one another that _Knight Linderman's_ initiates got into a fight. Not only that, but the _Wastelander_ from _Knight Linderman's_ division got into a fight… He was already loathing the reaction that would arise from that fact alone.

And he was under the impression that his division was more disciplined than that… Was it his fault? Should he have intervened sooner? Had he not enforced a strict sense of discipline with them? He worried most about the reprimand he would receive and the reprimand he would have to give. The little time he had to himself hadn't allowed him to refer to the Codex for the reprimand or consult anyone else about it.

But right then, he needed to do something, _say_ something to the two initiates standing before him. There were a lot of things he could say but he decided he would try his best to keep it to a minimum and omit his emotions, despite how irritated he was about the situation.

"Do either of you understand what you both did?" Linderman began, as calm as he could, "Not only did you disrupt dinner, you caused chaos, and decided that the best way to solve an issue was to fight it out. You embarrassed myself to everyone in that mess hall. Most importantly, you embarrassed _yourselves_. I don't care what caused the tension or why you fought each other. What _I_ care about is the fact you have disgraced everything the Brotherhood stands for! Discipline, integrity, and most importantly a sense of union. Fighting will _destroy_ all of that… And here I thought I taught you both better than that…" He paused and heaved a sigh. The pair didn't speak, didn't move. They stood as still as statues taking the verbal beating.

"And I can't _believe_ that I am having this discussion with the two of you. I haven't even begun to think of the reprimand that your behavior will constitute, but I can imagine it will not be pleasant. There is a very small tolerance for misconduct. _Very small_ tolerance. And I don't know if I can trust that you two won't fight each other again.

"Since I haven't had the time to consult neither the Codex nor my Knight Captain, for the time being, Initiate Oster, you will be confined to Knight McDaniel's office and Initiate O'Brien, you will be confined to mine. You both will be suspended from participating in morning and afternoon training and given separate, supervised meals. Is that understood, Initiates?"

"Yes sir." Oster saluted accordingly.

But O'Brien was silent.

Linderman stood up abruptly, irritated by her lack of attention,"Initiate O'Brien, I said, is that _understood_?" he nearly shouted.

"Yes sir." O'Brien replied, quietly with no salute.

Linderman told O'Brien to remain where she was while he escorted Oster out of his office and to Knight McDaniels' office. Once he handed Oster off to McDaniels, he made haste to find his Knight Captain.

A hard lump formed in his throat and for the first time in a while, he was nervous to approach his superior. He hadn't ever had to consult his Knight Captain for anything behavior related before.

Linderman entered the lounge and as he did, Knight Captain Frank Hardy found him with his cold blue eyes. He was seated at a couch with a drink in his hand and he beckoned Linderman to come to him. He couldn't tell if he was calm and collected or livid inside.

Linderman stood before Captain Hardy, his heart in his throat. He saluted and greeted the Captain appropriately. The Captain offered Linderman a seat next to him and he took it.

"Captain Hardy, I-"

"I already heard, Knight. Word travels fast, you should know that. Especially when one of your trainees is a Wastelander," He bit, swirling the golden liquid in his glass before taking a sip. "I assume you've put them in lock-down?"

"Yes sir. I haven't looked at the Codex yet."

"You don't need to," the Captain's blue eyes were piercing. Linderman had always hated their icy gaze. It made him feel as if he were staring down the nose of a yao guai. They were bright yet intimidating. "use your own judgement."

"It's difficult to do so, sir."

"And why is that?" Linderman began to say something but the Captain cut him off abruptly. "Wait, don't tell me that this Wastelander was involved…"

"Unfortunately yes." Linderman replied as lightly as possible.

Captain Hardy expelled a long sigh before asking through gritted teeth. "The Wastelander and who?"

"Initiate Andreana Oster, sir."

"Of course, it _had_ to be the Head Scribe's daughter… I guess it was about time that the Wastelander showed her true colors. They're unpredictable and unruly."

Linderman found offense to his remark and he snapped back, "It's my fault, Captain. I apparently haven't stressed the importance of obedience and discipline enough. What happened earlier is the result of that, improper training. It's my fault."

Captain Hardy downed the rest of his liquor and slammed the empty glass on the end table. He jabbed a large finger at the Knight, saying, " _You_ do _not_ take fault for this. You are the best training officer we have; there is no excuse for those Initiates to act like that. Taming a Wastelander is hard enough. I'm sure it's been more than you bargained for as a training officer. That girl is _dangerous_."

Linderman was shocked that his Knight-Captain was making so many quick assumptions. He had never met her and she wasn't dangerous. Stubborn maybe, but not dangerous "Sir, she wasn't the one who started the fight."

Captain Hardy's eyes burned through Linderman. "So you're telling me the Head Scribe's daughter started the fight… I don't believe you."

"She did, sir."

"Do you know that for _fact_?" Captain Hardy snapped. Disbelief and anger began to dawn on his face.

"Yes sir."

"You're only as strong as your weakest initiates with aggressive behavior are an immediate concern to the Brotherhood and I'm sure you understand why that is, Knight."

"I understand, Captain. But I still need some guidance."

"If you're asking what I think of the outcome of this situation, I would say expulsion." He said, point and blank.

"Sir?" Linderman couldn't believe that he had suggested that. _Expulsion_. It was easier said than done. It was a lengthy process and sometimes was often more trouble than what it was worth. But he had reserves about expulsion but it hadn't crossed his mind at all. He didn't want any of his initiates to be put through that. They had so much potential...

"You heard me. Suspend them, conduct a hearing and if expulsion is required then so be it. What they pulled today is something that we can't afford. See to it, Knight. You're dismissed."

 _2004, May 4, 2280, Citadel, B-Ring, Office B4_

It was a long time before Knight Linderman came back to his office. It had allowed too much time for Lisette to be with her thoughts and an overwhelming urge to sob had taken over her. Her mind was replaying the memories that suddenly flooded her brain.

That man. That _asshole_ had lured Lisette and her brother away from everyone, mugged them both, left Lisette to die and took her brother to God knows where.. Her stomach churned at the thought of her brother being dragged away by terrible people… by _slavers_. Her mind began to play out her worst fears. She imagined he was thin, deprived, starving, taken advantage of, and the very _thought_ that someone could have done that to _her_ brother made her stomach cramp. He was strong; he had been her backbone when things got rough and had offered her so much comfort when they first set out on their own after everything they had known as children was burned to the ground.

And now, Lisette feared she would be thrown back out into the Wasteland. She shouldn't have urged Oster on. She should have been the bigger person, ignored her and reported her actions rather than acting on impulse. She should have listened to Goodwin, to Van, to everyone… and now she more than likely destroyed her only chances of finding her brother and it was all her fault.

She would never be able to find him on her own… She wouldn't be able to survive on her own.

The door to Knight Linderman's office chimed and Lisette lost it. She buried her face into her hands and sobbed profusely. Her chest hurt and her stomach roiled.

"Initiate?" came Knight Linderman's voice from the doorway.

Lisette lifted her head to see Linderman standing, frozen in the doorway of his office with an expression she had never seen on his face before. It was a hybrid of concern and his usual stone cold face. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed and his mouth formed a firm line.

"I'm sorr… I'm sorry sir. I'm sorry." Lisette sobbed between gasps.

Linderman shut the door behind him but didn't move from the doorway.

"About what?" he asked.

"Crying. I'm sorr...sorry. I shouldn't be crying…"

"Initiate, crying... isn't going to help this situation," he started awkwardly.

Lisette wiped her eyes with her palms but turned her face away from him.

"I'm confused." Knight Linderman admitted, his arms hitting his thighs in exasperation. "You're sitting here crying after you got into a fight with another Initiate. Your behavior was inexcusable. And… and, I had _so much_ confidence in you. Now I have _no_ respect for you, even after how far you've come since you began training with me."

O'Brien snapped her head up to look at Linderman with a penetrating stare. She abruptly stood and bit back at him, "You shouldn't put me on a pedestal because I can guarantee you, I'll never meet your expectations.. I'm just a wastelander, remember?"

Knight Linderman stepped toward her threateningly and growled between gritted teeth. "Sit _back down,_ Initiate."

Lisette ignored his command and continued instead, "You want to know why I'm crying? Because I know I've fucked up. I know what I did was stupid and I shouldn't have done it. I'm sure everyone's talking about how that Wastelander beat the shit out of another Initiate and that she's doing exactly what _everyone_ expected. I know that I'm _never_ going to find my brother and you all are going to throw me out of here because I never meant a single thing to anyone. But do you want to know something else? Before she threw that tray at me, it all came back. I remembered the guy that lured me and my brother into the middle of nowhere, beat the shit out of us, stole everything we had, left me for dead and took my brother with him. I _remembered_. He was taken away and here I am, listening to your bullshit about how you have no respect for me anymore. I'm not here to make you proud or anyone respect me. I'm here to find my brother because Paladin Connelly said she would. And that's _it_."

The expression that came over Knight Linderman's face was a mix between hurt, disbelief and absolute rage. He opened his mouth and his words came out, calm and cool, despite his clearly irate face. "Sit back down, Initiate. And I'm only going to ask one more time."

He moved behind his desk and took a seat and waited for her to do the same. Lisette didn't expect what she had said to come out at all but unfortunately, it was the truth. And she wasn't expecting Knight Linderman to be so calm either. But it looked like he was trying his hardest to keep his anger tucked away.

Lisette sat back down heavily.

He put his hands on his desk and sighed. "Under protocol, in order for someone to be expelled from the Brotherhood, they have to be done so by the Elder himself. And considering the Elder was one of the only people who approved of your entry here, I don't think your fear of being thrown out of here is valid. However, I understand you're distraught."

His words weren't comforting the slightest. "How could you?"

"I can't but I'm trying my best to sympathize with you."

"You're doing a terrible job."

"O'Brien, what else do you want me to say? I obviously can't treat you the same as the other Initiates. You're not from here so I understand why it might be difficult for you to conform to standards you never had before. However, you _can't_ fight anyone without repercussions around here. You just _can't_. It doesn't work that way. Especially if it was over something petty as I gathered from the other initiates." Linderman explained cooly.

"Oh, what did they have to say?"

"I knew that there was something going on between you and Oster. I figured you didn't trip the other day." he admitted.

"Then why didn't you do anything?" Lisette snapped, "she's been at my throat for everything ever since I got here!"

"You're right. I'm at fault for not assessing the situation before it got out of hand, but I didn't expect that it would escalate as far as it did. I know Oster is a little off."

"A _little_ is an understatement. She's crazy."

"When did all of this harassment by her start?"

"As soon as I met her and when I did, she wasn't pleasant to me so that set the tone that she was not very happy about me being here in the first place. And I _tried_ to be friendly with her. I really did but she wasn't having it. I couldn't care if she liked me or not. She told me her and I weren't going to be friends and that was completely fine with me. But she continued to prod at me. Every chance she's got, she always shoved in her two cents about why she doesn't like me or why I'm a Wastelander or anything she possibly could. And you're right, I didn't trip the other day. She _shoved_ me. And before her and I got into that fight, I was telling a story about an encounter with a deathclaw I had a few years back and she interrupted me by saying that you had killed one before and yadda-yadda. I don't really care if you did or not but I knew she was making that up so I called her out and she got mad at me and threw a tray at me."

"But she threw the tray after you told her you should punch her face in, right?" Linderman asked lightly.

"Yes."

Linderman expelled a tense breath. "I see. I think I understand what's going on now…"

"I take full responsibility for my actions. I did egg her on. But she attacked me first and I fought back because I was pissed. Plain and simple."

Knight Linderman only nodded in response before becoming deep in thought. There was a long silence between the two of them.

Then, Lisette asked, "Can I wash up and change out of these fatigues?"

"Yes, I'll get a female Knight to accompany you."

"I don't need help…" Lisette said.

"It's just a precaution. I'm following regulation. You're on lockdown at the moment. You can't be unsupervised anywhere."

"For how long?"

"Until we figure out your reprimand. There will be a hearing tomorrow."

 _0813, May 5, 2280, Citadel, B-Ring, Office B4_

Elder Dimitri had heard the news yesterday and when he woke up the following morning, he was still shocked by it. He felt like a complete fool. Somewhere deep down he knew that something like this would happen. It was the reason he had reserves about taking in a Wastelander with no experience with structure or discipline.

He wasn't sure who to blame or who was at fault. Was it himself for authorizing it to begin with? Was it Star Paladin Connelly's for bringing her to the Citadel in the first place? Was it a fault of her training officer? He had heard from plenty of people; he heard all the gossip and chatter from the scribes during their breaks in the laboratory. They told each other that they knew that this would happen and that Wastelanders are just like that and they shouldn't be trusted.

He felt like a complete fool knowing that he had been the one who had approved of it and authorized the Wastelander's entrance… Elder Dimitri knew he needed to get to the bottom of it and deal the situation and try to find a solution that would please the masses. But first, there needed to be an immediate hearing. He needed the training officer, Knight Linderman and his Knight-Captain to be there as well as Star Paladin Connelly. However, Star Paladin Connelly had been gone for two days straight so he would have to proceed without her, unfortunately, unless she showed up before the hearing. He also would need his council to be there.

His council consisted of the two highest ranking individuals aside from himself: Head Scribe Tobias Oster and Sentinel David Worth. He was most worried about the Head Scribe, since his daughter was who participated in the fight in the mess hall. The Head Scribe was the main force against the Wastelander's approval in the Brotherhood in the first place and it had taken a great deal of convincing to do get the Head Scribe on board. Now, Elder Dimitri knew the Head Scribe would be livid. He was dreading the things he would say. Sentinel Worth was also vehemently against the Wastelander's approval, however, he was not as difficult to convince. Elder Dimitri knew that he would have an even harder time persuading his council to allow Initiate O'Brien to stay in the Brotherhood. He would be operating with much less luck this time.

He invited all who needed to attend and required that Knight Linderman bring a report of incident as well as all personal files of the initiates.

For most of the day, he thought deeply about what his options were. He knew that expulsion would be the popular decision and it was not out of the question. He would need very convincing information to come to a conclusion like that though.

Once the evening came, he dressed in his navy blue formal robes and made his way to the conference room. On the way there from the barracks, he came across Star Paladin Connelly in the lounge, puffing on a cigarette. He stopped dead in his tracks, met eye to eye with her and demanded, "Star Paladin Connelly, where have you been?"

Nonchalantly, she expelled a long breath of grey smoke from her lips. "I've been looking for the armor, Elder." she replied casually.

Elder Dimitri crossed his arms, not satisfied with her answer. "And do you have anything to report?"

"I do, however, I won't divulge that information in a public area. Perhaps whenever you're free, Elder." she tapped the embers of her cigarette in a nearby ashtray.

He couldn't help but feel quite irritated with her behavior. The armor's disappearance was a _big_ deal and Star Paladin Connelly's actions didn't assure him that she felt it was also a _big_ deal, despite his previous discussion with her. At the same time, he had to respect that it took time. The Wasteland was a nasty and twisted place. He didn't have any room to suspect her procrastination as anything malicious though but there was an inkling in his mind.

"After you're done with your smoke break, I would like you to join me and a few others in conference room C." he said.

"What for?"

"A disciplinary hearing…"

Star Paladin Connelly's face didn't change the slightest. In fact, she looked more put-out than she had before he had stated what he wanted her for. It was not unusual for him to request her presence at them as she was the fourth highest ranking individual in the entire Brotherhood. But, he decided he would add an important bit of information. "For Initiate O'Brien."

Then her face changed. She closed her eyes and mumbled something to herself.

"What was that, Paladin?" Elder Dimitri asked.

Star Paladin Connelly crammed the butt of her cigarette into the ashtray and stood up."I was just saying that I knew you hadn't gotten dressed up for no reason. I'll change into formals and I'll meet you there."

He nodded and continued on his way.

When Elder Dimitri entered the conference room, he found that the Head Scribe and Sentinel Worth were seated together, and speaking quietly to one another. Upon the Elder's arrival, he was welcomed harshly by the Head Scribe who looked as though he was waiting for him to arrive. He glared directly at the Elder as he walked in and hissed, "This is what I was afraid of, Elder…" The Head Scribe was dressed in dark crimson robes much like the pair the Elder wore. He was in his late forties, his once dark brown hair had begun to grey. The stress of his life was apparent in his forehead, which was magnified by his receding hairline. As the Elder expected, he was visibly angry. "This is _exactly_ what I was afraid of… This is why I had reserves about allowing a _Wastelander_ into our numbers."

The Elder sat at the head of the table and cleared his throat. As calmly as he could he said, bluntly, "We will discuss our opinions during the hearing, Head Scribe."

" _Opinions_? The _facts_ , Elder."

Elder Dimitri exchanged glances at Sentinel Worth, who was dressed his black uniform with a golden rank on his bicep. His hair was shaved thin and he had a long, drawn face. He was only in his thirties but he looked much older than that. He shook his head at the Elder before he said in his very quiet, cool voice, "Adarius, this is why we were wary about allowing a Wastelander in…. We cannot afford something like this to happen."

"As I told the Head Scribe, Sentinel, we will discuss our opinions during the hearing." Elder Dimitri repeated but more forcibly this time. Sentinel Worth shook his head again before heaving a sigh.

The next pair to walk in was Knight-Captain Hardy and Knight Linderman, dressed in similar formal uniforms as the Sentinel but the primary colors and trim varied. The Knight-Captain had a darker grey uniform than the Knight and the Knight had a lighter trim than the Knight-Captain. The pair recognized the Elder and his council appropriately before taking seats across from the Elder's council. Knight Linderman had come with two folders and a single piece of paper.

Lastly, Star Paladin Connelly entered a few minutes later. She took her seat next to the Knight without saying a word. They were all there and the Elder, for the first time in a long time, was nervous. _Very_ nervous. He was unsure of how this hearing would go. He knew there would be a lot of conflicting opinions to be thrown around but he knew he needed to be steadfast.

 _He_ was the Elder. His decision was all that mattered in the end.

A tense silence stifled the room; the calm before the storm. And then Elder Dimitri began, "I appreciate everyone taking time to be here on such short notice. Knight Linderman, may I see the Initiate's files and the incident report?"

The Knight handed two folders and the accompanying paper to him.

He thanked the Knight and opened the folders for examination. The room watched as he inspected them. He paged through the contents within both folders and found that they offered no useful information. There was no previous disciplinary infractions for either Initiate and their medical and training records were both exceptional. He handed the folders down to the Head Scribe and the Sentinel for review and then he read the incident report:

Int. L. O'Brien and Int. A. Oster have had a few encounters that were non benevolent, including threats and taunts by both parties and unwarranted physical contact initiated by Int. A. Oster before the incident. Int. A. Oster disregarded all requirements to accept Initiate L. O'Brien into the division and has harassed her from the beginning. The circumstances leading up to the incident of attention was upon friendly chatter in the mess hall at approximately 1845. Int. A. Oster and Int. L. O'Brien mutually and verbally taunted each other and proceeded to threaten one another. Int. A. Oster threw her dinner tray at Int. L. O'Brien. In response, Int. L. O'Brien fought back. Kn. Erik Linderman broke up the fight before any sustainable injuries happened. Both Int. have none to minor injuries and are currently on lockdown awaiting reprimand.

Threats? Harassment? Unwarranted physical contact?

Elder Dimitri was stunned at the amount of contact these two initiates had that was not meant in good spirits and yet Knight Linderman had a blind eye to it. He tried hard not to assume negligence but had no choice until proven otherwise. His mind buzzed with questions.

He watched as the Head Scribe and Sentinel gave the folders back to the Knight, not pleased with the contents inside of them. He started again, addressing everyone, "The two Initiates we have in question are Initiate Andreanna Oster and Initiate Lisette O'Brien. Both of which have no disciplinary infractions on their records and exceptional medical and training records. But it appears that these two Initiates have had substantial amounts of contact that are questionable." He turned to Knight Linderman, "Knight, can you explain to me what these 'threats' and 'unwarranted physical activity' you wrote are?" The Elder handed the incident report to the Head Scribe and Sentinel who feverishly looked over it.

Knight Linderman cleared his throat and began, "Yes, Elder. I would first like to say that I apologize to everyone in here of the behavior of my Initiates and I recognize that I am at fault for allowing this conduct to happen without consequence. With that being said, I have been extremely impressed with every single one of my Initiates, including the two that are in question today. I am appalled that despite my efforts to instill a strict sense of discipline, there was still a fight that broke out yesterday. I was not aware that there was contact between the two Initiates that would warrant concern. Other Initiates in my division were aware but made no effort to bring it to my attention, therefore, at the time of the fight, it was too late. According to other initiates, the harassment ranged from unfriendly banter and arguments to verbal threats. The unwarranted physical contact was during a training session. The initiates were running in formation and Initiate Oster shoved Initiate O'Brien, causing her to fall. I was unaware of the previous happenings so I was not quick to question. I had assumed it had been an accident."

"But _who_ was the instigator? As childish as it sounds, who started it?" Elder Dimitri asked.

"From what I've gathered, Initiate Oster had been instigating all harassment before it became a two-way banter." he replied.

"Knight, are you suggesting that my daughter caused that fight!" the Head Scribe hissed across the table.

The Knight stood firm and replied, "I'm confident that most of the harassment came from her, Head Scribe. Initiate O'Brien made attempts to be friendly but it was not returned."

He scoffed. "Can you blame her! Training alongside a Wastelander must be incredibly demeaning. Sharing the same privileges as someone who has no history, no _blood_ within the Brotherhood… I can't believe you have allowed something like this to happen underneath your nose, Knight. I find it hard to say you're the _best_ training officer we have. After this, I'm not sure I feel the same about you. You put _my_ daughter in danger and the _entire_ Brotherhood… You must be _so_ ashamed…"

The Knight maintained eye contact with the Head Scribe, not wavering.

Star Paladin Connelly jumped into the conversation. "Did you not hear what Knight Linderman said? He said that _your_ daughter put another Initiate in danger. Harassment from such good genes is unacceptable."

"Oh, you have some nerve to say that, Star Paladin. You're the reason that Wastelander is here in the first place!" The Head Scribe was fuming, " _you_ are the one that has put the _entire_ Brotherhood in jeopardy! What made you think it was such a great idea to bring her in here? Was it some personal vendetta? I heard an earful from the Elder about your absurd objections about our current values concerning Wastelanders…"

Sentinel Worth cut in. "You above all else, Star Paladin, should realize what dark times we are in. I was beginning to think we were making some progress but your rash decisions may have hampered all of that."

"Wastelanders are _despicable_ things," the Head Scribe sneered, "they're selfish and disgusting. They offer _nothing_ to the world we live in. All they do occupy space and kill one another with their primitive motives and are unpredictable because of that. And I believe this Wastelander we're dealing with is no exception to that. She could have killed my daughter! She's an _animal_. "

"I knew what I was getting all of us into when I brought her here." Paladin Connelly bit.

"Did you, Star Paladin?" the Head Scribe snapped with fire in his voice.

"You make it sound like saving someone's life is a crime."

"Wastelanders don't need saving." Knight-Captain Hardy added under his breath.

"That's a brash statement, Knight-Captain," Star Paladin Connelly lashed out, "I would find it hard to believe that you wouldn't have done the same if you were in my position. I _knew_ what I was getting all of us into when I brought her here."

"What are you saying?" Sentinel Worth demanded.

"I'm saying, Sentinel, that we need to open our damn eyes and look around for once! We are _not_ the only ones here in this Wasteland. We're not much different than the Wastelanders. We're only making the ends meet. You can't deny that's what we have been doing these past few years."

"Open our damn eyes?" The Head Scribe bit between gritted teeth. "Have you forgotten our progress on eradicating the Super Mutant population? We're doing the entire Wasteland a favor… And that's all we can afford and all we _should_ do. It's not our job to save the Wasteland."

"Do you realize how incredibly privileged we are inside of these walls? We have running water, an abundance of food, shelter, armaments and protection while the rest of the Capital Wasteland suffers for food everyday. If you've spent any time outside of the Citadel, you will realize that. We are selfish for keeping all of these luxuries to ourselves… I apologize, Elder, for any disrespect but we are _failing_ as an organization. How much longer can we maintain this lie of prosperity? Our reputation is not favored in the Wasteland and it should _not_ be that way. Reaching out to the Wasteland and helping those who need it the most will improve our image and it is also an opportunity for gathering strength. We could expand our numbers and expand our breadth."

"Are you suggesting outreach and recruitment?" Sentinel Worth demanded.

Head Scribe interjected before Star Paladin Connelly could respond. "It sounds more like an opportunity to dilute Brotherhood blood."

"I brought her here to prove a point. I brought her here to show all of you that recruits from the outside can be the answer to our problems. But it appears you are more concerned with petty matters. Desperate times calls for desperate measures. Exclusivity will _kill_ us, Head Scribe. The longevity of the Brotherhood is not sustainable… How much more interbreeding can we do? No one talks about that."

"Says the woman that wasn't able to contribute to our numbers…" The look that came over Star Paladin Connelly's face when the Head Scribe uttered those words was something the Elder had never seen from her. Her usual calm and collected face was suddenly flushed and her jaw clenched. She was enraged by his statement. He shoved an accusing finger at her. "I've had enough of your insubordination… You are speaking _absolute_ nonsense. The Brotherhood will _never_ accept outsiders. We will _never_ accept their kind as supplement."

Elder Dimitri slammed his fists on the table, gathering everyone's attention. He was fine with some hashing out but the Head Scribe was resulting to personal insults and that was unacceptable. The air in the conference room was alive with energy. Tensions were high and he wouldn't stand it any longer. He glared at the Head Scribe. "Have you forgotten Head Scribe that it was _I_ that authorized Initiate O'Brien's clearance here. Not _her_." The Elder watched as the anger disappeared from Star Paladin Connelly's face and replaced with a deceitfully calm visage. The Elder continued

"I am on the verge of throwing you out of this hearing, Head Scribe, unless you get ahold of your anger and push your personal matters to the side... And you have the audacity to question _my_ motives? Your personal beliefs about Wastelanders or anything of the sorts is silenced. We are _not_ dealing with a _Wastelander_. We are dealing with two _Brotherhood Initiates_ who did not like one another and got into a fight. We can make this situation simple or complex. In the best interest of the Brotherhood, we need to consider it in simpler terms. She is not a Wastelander. She is an _Initiate_. And Knight Linderman has kept me very aware of her progress." He gave an indication the Knight Linderman to proceed with the conversation. Elder Dimitri watched as the Knight shakily straightened the folders in front of him.

Knight Linderman began, cautiously, "Initiate O'Brien is among the best Initiates I have ever trained. She has made incredible progress in the past four weeks. She has surpassed her fellow Initiates by miles. She runs farther, faster, longer, shoots straighter, listens closer than the rest. She does well in standard and regulation lessons and has a lot of traits that set her apart from everyone else in my division."

The Head Scribe grumbled something.

"I'm sorry, what was that Head Scribe? Do you wish to add something?" Elder Dimitri snapped.

Sentinel Worth spoke up in the Head Scribe's defense. "I must ask, Knight, is there any bias in this situation? Is there any reason you would favor her over other Initiates? Is it because you sympathize with Star Paladin Connelly?"

"Pardon me, Sentinel?" the Knight's face became stone cold and pale.

"That is outrageous!" Knight-Captain Hardy pitched in.

"Is the fact that a Wastelander is showing up Brotherhood born and bred Initiates too much for you two to swallow?" Knight Linderman cut in, hoping to appease both the Sentinel and his Knight-Captain. "Wastelanders offer new characteristics and insights that a pure Brotherhood initiates wouldn't have the slightest idea of. Initiate O'Brien doesn't take a single thing she has for granted. She relishes her meals, never complains about the taste. She appreciates her clothing and her bunk. And do you know why she does all of that? Because she knows what it's like to go days without food. She knows what it's like to not have a bed or clean clothes on her back. Those are things other Initiates I've trained have never once acknowledged. Because of those reasons, she performs every task to the best of her ability because she knows deep down inside that everyone around her is judging her and keeping a close eye on her because she's not like everyone else. Deep down inside she knows that if she messes up in the slightest, all of the things she's come to appreciate these last few weeks will be taken away from her and she'll be in the same situation she was taken out of. In my opinion, she would be a _tremendous_ addition to the Brotherhood. Her tactic, her character, it's unlike anyone I've ever seen. And to me, it's refreshing. There's a living, breathing person in there and not like the shells I train alongside her. Pure Brotherhood Initiates are _easy_ and predictable. They know the drill; they've been taught how to sit, stand, and walk like a Brother of Steel from the moment they were brought into this world. But she makes my job a challenge, new and interesting.

"And perhaps it is inappropriate of me to say this but I'm going to say it anyway," he was addressing the Head Scribe and Sentinel directly, " _something_ needs to be done. The Brotherhood is not the same anymore. I'm not condoning the Star Paladin's plan… unless you two have something else in mind. For the time being, I am in full support of it. And as a Knight, I have no voice but today, I'm _speaking_ and hoping to be heard. We're desperate. We're failing. As our leaders, something _needs_ to be done and you are the only ones capable of doing that."

The members of conference room were speechless. His words were remarkable and seemed to stump the outspoken Head Scribe and Sentinel. Elder Dimitri was impressed and somehow filled with pride. The Knight was incredibly well-spoken. He had not known much of him before Initiate O'Brien's arrival but was beginning to realize that he was insightful and well-versed. He was aware and open-minded. The Elder needed to remember that and knew that a promotion would have to be in order for him from his performance alone. This situation was… tough and he handled it very well.

The conference room, again, fell to silence and in that silence, the Elder took hold of the hearing. He could sense everyone was agitated and knew it would be best to finish as quick as possible to save anymore trouble. "I suppose we should come to some sort of disciplinary conclusion. Upon revision of the Codex, the reprimand for unruly behavior is dependent upon both parties and the circumstance. Reprimand ranges from twenty to one-hundred and sixty hours of latrine duties, maintenance duties, or of other sorts, to suspension of promotion in the case of a promotion is in question, and in the most extreme situations, expulsion."

"Expulsion." the Head Scribe grumbled.

"All in favor of expulsion?" Elder Dimitri asked the table.

The Head Scribe was the only individual who raised his hand, high and proud. "Overruled. That type of reprimand is out of the question for this circumstances. Unless you can prove me with evidence that would warrant expulsion.. But I'm confident you don't have it. Is forty hours of mess hall duty sufficient enough?"

"Sixty…." Captain Hardy corrected.

"Fifty." Star Paladin Connelly pitched in.

"Fifty," Elder Dimitri affirmed, "Fifty hours of mess hall duty sounds appropriate enough for both Initiates."

Knight Linderman made a small gesture with his hand, requesting room to speak. "Elder, if I may suggest that they could take separate training paths? I'm almost certain that the harassment will continue despite that mess hall duty. Initiate O'Brien could continue training toward Knighthood and Initiate Oster could begin scribe training."

Elder Dimitri wasn't against the idea and he figured it would be the easiest path in dealing with the situation. And right now, he wanted the path of least resistance. He certainly didn't want anything like this to happen again... He turned to Knight Linderman. "I understand your concern, Knight, and I approve. It's settled, then. This hearing is dismissed."

 _1734, May 5, 2280, Citadel, B-Ring, Conference Hall_

Knight Linderman exhaled heavily as the Elder dismissed the hearing. He had been holding in a tense breath for what seemed like ages. Knight-Captain Hardy was the first to stand and exit the conference room without so much as a word. And that's when Linderman took his leave. He gathered his folders and stood to depart. On the way out, the Elder stopped him with a firm grip to his shoulder. He didn't say a word, only gave him a weak smile..

Once he was out of the conference room, he felt a weight lift from his shoulder. The hearing was heated and the last time Linderman had felt that amount of stress, he was cornered by a horde of Super Mutants. And now, he was debating which had been more frightening. Tempers had run high and no one left the room happy. A conclusion had been reached about the degree of reprimand for his Initiates but it had not been easy…

The only thing on his mind was to speak with Star Paladin Connelly. About what, he wasn't completely sure. She had taken the brunt of the attacks, especially from the Head Scribe and he had never seen her so pissed. He decided he would wait outside the conference room for her to emerge. He opened the folders in his hand to busy himself in the meantime.

The door to the conference room opened. He looked up and the Sentinel exited. He turned the opposite direction of Linderman but the door remained open. Star Paladin Connelly stepped out. He immediately intercepted her and said, "Star Paladin, may I speak with you for a moment?"

She approached him, lost in thought as indicated by her drawn face. She looked very tired. "What is it, Knight?" she asked, softly.

"How do you think that went?" he asked.

She shook her head. "You have your reprimand orders. That was our main purpose of this hearing."

Linderman lowered his tone significantly and said to her, quietly, "I had no idea the Head Scribe was so… _angry_. He always seemed like such a passive man." She only looked down at her feet. She didn't respond. But he persisted. "What did he mean by you not contributing to our numbers? What does that mean?"

"That's none of your _damn_ business." She hissed.

He was brought back by her harshness. He swallowed hard and realized he was asking inappropriately questions. He immediately felt very stupid. With that said, she turned to leave but he interjected, "Before you go, I wanted to let you know that Initiate O'Brien told me what you plan to do with her."

She gave him a piercing glare. Her mouth began to form a question but instead, she remained calm and cool, "I'm not sure I understand."

"About her brother? About how you promised her that you would help her find him?" he said, "when were you planning on telling me that?"

"And why is that any of your business?" she bit.

"Because I'm her training officer and I feel like that's something I should know."

Finally, she broke her stubborn wall and said, "I told her eventually. Whenever she earned it. Whenever she did her time."

"And when is that exactly?"

"I haven't decided, besides," she stepped in close to him and whispered, "she didn't want to be here so I gave her a reason. How else was I supposed to do that?"

Linderman drew back, shocked. Her words were deceitful. Had she _bribed_ O'Brien to want to be here? "But you're going to help her, right? You can't make a promise like that and not follow through… That's… that's _horrible_."

The Star Paladin shrugged. "Like I said, how else was I supposed to do it? I will follow through. I don't make promises I don't keep. But I'm well aware of how little free time I have. You already have enough to worry about, Knight. Don't start worrying about her and her well-being." With that, she left him standing there, baffled. He immediately began to feel _horrible_ , a horrible sinking feeling as if he were on the brink of realizing something horrid. As he walked back to his office, he began to connect the dots with what he knew so far.

Connelly had brought O'Brien here to prove to everyone that outsiders can be trusted and that we should focus efforts on recruiting from the Wasteland. O'Brien, however, did not want to become a part of the Brotherhood. To get around that, Connelly promised O'Brien that she would help her find her brother if she joined. Whether or not Connelly will maintain that promise was up in the air and Linderman found that disturbing. But she had no idea. Linderman wasn't entirely convinced that she would follow through… But he figured he'd have to trust her on that. Deep down inside, Linderman felt a swelling when he thought of O'Brien. The Star Paladin had told him not to worry but he was doing the opposite.

He would keep an eye on her and on the Star Paladin.

As he arrived at his office, he was suddenly exhausted and weak. His office was empty but now had a second cot in the corner, for O'Brien. The Codex didn't have guidelines on where the lockdown would be but he figured within his watch, he could keep her away from trouble, for the time being.

He tossed the folders onto his desk and went to his cot, where he collapsed, numbly. He knew he should eat dinner but he wasn't hungry. Instead, he closed his eyes and enjoyed the silence that had come over his office. He drifted into a light sleep.

The sound of his door opening woke him with a jerk. He bolted upright to see O'Brien standing in the doorway, dressed in her light grey fatigues. He was stunned and a little self-conscious at the sight of her. He felt an invisible hand clutch his throat. Her black hair was beginning to grow out since it had been shaved a few weeks prior and he would often seen her whisping it out of her face in annoyance. It would have to be shaved again soon. She came in, accompanied by Knight McDaniels

She avoided his eyes, apologizing, "Oh, sorry, sir… I didn't mean to barge in. I mean, seeing as though this is where I'm supposed to stay, I don't really have a choice."

Linderman gave a small wave to Knight McDaniels who returned it before shutting the door behind O'Brien. She observed his desk as she passed by to sit on her cot. "So I assume the hearing went as planned?"

He stood up, straightening his uniform. "Of course."

"How did it go?"

He knew he shouldn't talk to her directly about it but he desperately wanted to. Instead, he would tell her the verdict. "You've been put under probation until you have completed fifty service hours of mess hall duty. So is Initiate Oster."

She crossed her arms over her chest."So, you're not kicking me out?"

"No."

She heaved a sigh and sat heavily on her cot. "I don't know if I should be happy about that or not. Guess the Wasteland will have to wait to finish me off, huh?"

Linderman wasn't sure if it was a blessing or not either. He continued, "You will be continuing on the path to Knighthood but Initiate Oster will be commencing training as a scribe instead of a knight."

Her face lit up. "Really?"

"I don't think service hours will change Initiate Oster's thoughts of you. If anything, she probably thinks even lower of you now than she did before. You will be participating in separate training to eliminate the chance of another incident like what happened yesterday from happening again." he said.

"Well that's good. Like I said, I _really_ tried to like her. I did. But she was not having it at all." O'Brien gave a small laugh, "I'm sure the Head Scribe was pissed."

Linderman went and sat at his desk. "He was not happy, to put it simply. Also, I wanted to apologize to you about the things I said to you earlier. I haven't lost my confidence in you. I sometimes say things I don't mean when I'm angry and I apologize for that."

She gave him a dismissive wave. "Oh, don't worry about it. I've been told worse things in my life."

With that, he busied himself at his terminal, beginning to write the first infraction record to put in their files before he returned them to the scribes. As he mindlessly wrote the record, he began to think of the Head Scribe. He was, indeed, not a happy man and Linderman was shocked at how brutal his attacks were, not only to Star Paladin Connelly but to himself. He was hurt by his words, unfortunately. Coming from such a high power, being told you should be ashamed of what happened underneath your command was bad enough. But being told that you weren't respected as an accomplished trainer was even worse. He pushed his hurt to the side and hoped that it was only out of anger that he said those things. For it being the first time he had interacted with the Head Scribe, it wasn't anything to be proud of.

But then there was the Elder. He wondered why the Elder had stopped him and smiled at him before he left. He wondered what that meant. To Linderman, the Elder was a man that readily deserved and continually earned his respect. For being the representative of the caliber of the Brotherhood, he couldn't imagine anyone else for the job. He was passionate yet reasonable, straight-forward yet open-minded. He listened and responded to his circumstances and wasn't blinded by one side of the story. Even if he didn't agree, he would listen. However, if he was right, he would let you know. He was the one, after all, that had kept the Brotherhood afloat for so long. He owed respect to anyone who could manage that.

Suddenly, there was a new message on his terminal.

It was from the Elder:

 _FROM: DM-001E_

 _TO: LN-085K_

 _SUBJECT: An Apology_

 _Knight,_

 _I would like to formally apologize on behalf of Head Scribe Oster about any offensive remarks he made in your regard. Tempers had run high and I had not anticipated the Head Scribe would be so belligerent to such good men._

 _You are still a great training officer, Knight. Despite the blame you put on yourself, Initiates will be Initiates. Things like this happen and there's no going around it. Where you go from here is what matters most. I am still confident in your abilities as a training officer - that will never change._

 _I am extremely impressed with how you handled yourself during the hearing. You embody everything a Brother of Steel should: perseverance in the face of opposition, composure in chaos and strength in light of vulnerability._

 _I believe a promotion should be in order. Today, May 5th, Knight Linderman, you have been promoted to Senior Knight Linderman. Come by my office tomorrow at the most convenient time to receive your new ranks and proper acknowledgement._

 _Congratulations, Senior Knight. You deserve it._

 _Continue to fight the good fight. Perhaps, if we had more Knights like you, the Brotherhood wouldn't be in the state it is today._

 _With regard,_

 _Elder A. Dimitri_

 _0254, May 6, 2280, Secure Transmission Channel, Unknown Location_

 _FROM: P_BC_

 _TO: P_FMK_

 _SUBJECT: Urgent, Read ASAP_

 _I'm running out of time and patience._

 _The Wastelander got into a fight the other day. Listening to the Elder and Head Scribe's verbal garbage was unbearable. Not only that, but the Head Scribe's pissed at me. As if I'm the reason his bratty daughter got into a fight with a rough and tough Wastelander… It's been an existential crisis in their eyes. I'm viewing it more in the light of: "it was bound to happen"._

 _I'm also running out of things to tell the Elder. He's expecting me to have a full report on the armor's whereabouts but I "haven't found it yet". He's getting tired of hearing that._

 _I need a distraction._

 _I have an idea but I need some guidance on how exactly I'm going to pull it off. Hopefully you can help me with that._

 _I'll be back home soon._

0700, May 11, 2280, Citadel, Courtyard

Nearly a week after the disciplinary hearing, the bailey was void of its usual chatter on this particular morning.

In the center of the bailey, there were seven Initiates standing at parade rest in front of Senior Knight Linderman. He looked at their faces, studied their thousand-yards stare, their glazed eyes and straight lips. He was proud of them thus far but today, they would have to prove themselves. Adorned in his power armor, the Senior Knight paced up and down the formation of Initiates. With his hands clasp behind his back, he began, "Initiates, _come to_!" They snapped to attention, "Today is the day for you to show me your worth. And if you're successful, a promotion and clearance to the next level of training will be in order." He stopped in front of Initiate O'Brien and for a moment, she captured his attention.

It wasn't long ago, she was in his office, eyes red and tears on her cheeks, crying to him. It wasn't long ago that she had showed her true colors to him. However, he was not undaunted. He knew that there was still fight left in her, more purpose than what her words portrayed. Her eyes did not meet his. He continued pacing, "If not, you will be under hearing and expulsion from the Citadel will be a very real possibility. However, I feel that each and every one of you have what it takes to make the cut. But don't expect this to be easy…

"This is how it works. There are four parts to this test: strength, accuracy, stamina, and agility. For the strength portion, you will drop and do fifty push-ups and fifty sit-ups," he pointed to pull-up bars to his right, "then five pull-ups. Next, you will run to the shooting range," he gestured accordingly, "you will pick up the laser rifle and shoot the dummy in the head, chest, both legs consecutively. If you miss, start over. If you're waiting, begin planking until it's your turn. After you have completed the task at the shooting range, you will begin a three mile run. The last test is the agility course," he gestured to a course which had been constructed in an empty space in the bailey. It consisted of various activities that the Initiates had done before however at the end of the course was a large pole and a bell at the top, "once you have reached the end of the agility course... climb up the pole and ring the bell. Once I've heard the bell ring seven times, I will call time. Remember, this is a group effort. The speed you use to complete one activity may hinder another's progress. Keep that in mind… This isn't supposed to be easy. If it were, we would be letting anyone become a Knight, wear our insignia and fight for our cause. Show me what you're worth, Initiates," He took out a small hand timer, " _Forward_!" He activated it and with that, the Initiates dropped and began their test. Linderman made his way to the guard post which overlooked the entire bailey to observe and record times.

He remembered seven years ago which he was in their same shoes. At the raw age of eighteen, he was more than excited to fulfill his lifelong wish, to become a true Brother of Steel. He had dreamed about it since he was eight years old when he first became a Squire. His parents had raised him by the doctrine of the Codex and were supportive of everything he did and accomplished. He was making them proud every day even if they were all the way in the mountains of Vermont hunting yao gai for their retirement. However, now that he was a Knight and had the privilege of training the newest additions to the Brotherhood, the excitement of being a full-fledged member of the Brotherhood had worn off. It was all roses and sunshine within the walls of the Citadel but once you ventured outside the walls, it was an alien world. He had seen impoverished people. He had seen the horrors the revolting Wasteland had birthed. He had seen the worst of mankind become normality. He understood that the Brotherhood fell somewhere in that category. The disciplinary hearing from a week prior had brought a lot of quiet thoughts to the table. He didn't imagine that there would be any immediate pursuit of those thoughts but he had to wonder what events would push it over the edge.

Knight Linderman brought his attention back to the Initiates below. He was asking himself questions that were not his to ponder. He was in no position to change anything about the Brotherhood's objectives or ways. Yes, he had spoken his mind before but it was only a flickering of something he wasn't. He had to revert back to his duties and his usual mindsets. There were good people working towards their future.

He looked down at the timer in his palm. Five minutes had passed and a majority of the Initiates were finishing their strength test and continuing to the shooting range. The shooting range is where he figured the most time would be spent. He didn't expect any of his Initiates to become marksmen but knowing how to shoot a laser rifle well and with accuracy was a must. At this point, no one seemed to catch his attention. They were progressing well. Until Initiate Van finished the shooting range test within thirty seconds. He was impressed. He hadn't seen anyone shoot like that before. Just because he didn't expect them to be marksmen didn't mean they couldn't be. He began his three mile run with two others on his tail.

With only a few Initiates stuck at the shooting range and the rest running around the bailey, he began to see who his true runners were. He had come to know everyone's strengths and weaknesses during the past five weeks but this test would allow everyone to show their true colors. The runners that were in the lead were Initiate Brigham and Initiate O'Brien. They both were always at each other's throats when it came to daily runs. Initiate Brigham was built to be a runner. He was tall and thin. As for Initiate O'Brien, he didn't know how she managed to keep up with Brigham. She had the stamina and the endurance, not necessarily speed. Brigham had the speed and the stamina. But somehow, she was right on his heels.

It was nearing half a hour when Brigham, followed by O'Brien and Initiate Taylor finished the three mile run and moved on to the last part of the test. They had to crawl under barbed wire, through mud, hop and duck under structures, and scale a wall. It wasn't easy especially considering what they had done prior, the strength tests and running. It was often here, they would decrease their pace trying to catch their breaths. With all the Initiates running, he watched the Initiates move through the obstacle course. Initiate Brigham and Initiate Taylor struggled through the mud while Initiate O'Brien clambered her way up the wall, taking the lead. Nearly at the top, she lost her footing and fell flat on her back. Linderman cringed. It looked like it hurt. Initiate Taylor stepped over her and began up the wall. It took her a moment to regain her momentum but again she climbed. Taylor reached the top of the wall and hoisted himself over. He fell the entire way down on the other side, crumbling into a heap at the bottom. He could hear him cry out in pain.

Linderman made haste down to the obstacle course after he watched Taylor writhe in pain, clutching his right ankle. Once he was down to their level, he called out to the Initiates who noticed their pained teammate, "Keep going, keep going!"

Initiate Taylor's face was red and contorted by a mixture of pain and fear. "Knight, I think… I think I broke my ankle, sir. I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry!" he blubbered, sweat glistening on his face.

Linderman hoisted him up by his shoulders and began to lead him away to a bench, saying, "As far as I'm concerned, you're done, Intiaite. No use in getting injured. You've completed the test." Initiate Taylor sat down heavily on the bench and looked up to say something to his training officer but the chime of a bell brought their attention to the tall pole.

As Linderman spun around, Initiate O'Brien slid down the pole and raise her hands above her head and let loose a bellowing cheer. Linderman quickly brought out his timer, lapsed it and recorded her time: 31:04. The rest followed suit. Within another five minutes, the bell rang five more times. The last Initiate ended at: 36:51. The times were acceptable and he found all were within standards for promotion. But he didn't dare say that. Instead, he dismissed them and assured his division that his verdict for promotions would come after dinner. Initiate Taylor was sent to the medical bay for treatment of his ankle.

In the meantime, he sent his power armor to the armory for its regular tune-up, dressed down into his fatigues, and began his way for his office to order new ranks and promotional notes for his division.

 _0724, May 12, 2280, Citadel, Initiate Bunkhouse_

It was a tiny thing in Lisette's hand, about the size of a bottle cap. It was a single inverted chevron, solid brass, golden and shiny. Senior Knight Linderman had given them a speech when they all received them. He said that they were special and that it signified their progress in becoming Knights of Steel.

The entire division had just been dismissed and they were all in the barracks, putting on their new ranks on. They were all chattering happily to one another but Lisette found herself staring blankly at it in her fingers. She didn't know how to put it on, and frankly, she wasn't entirely convinced it was worthy of her excitement. Van walked up to her with a wide smile and cheered, "Can you believe it? _We did it!_ "

"Did what?" Lisette laughed dryly.

"We got _promoted_! That actually means we're doing something right!"

Goodwin popped in and added, "Well, we didn't _completely_ do it. We still got a few more promotions until we're knights."

"Don't spoil the mood, Goodwin!" Van snapped at him. Then he looked at Lisette and asked, "Do you want me to help you put it on?"

"I guess, I have no idea how to." She handed the small brass piece to him. They were all dressed in their formal uniforms for the promotion. The uniforms were a light grey and it was the first time Lisette had worn her pair. The way she understood how uniforms worked was that higher ranking individuals had darker uniforms than lower ranks. Not only did they get darker in fabric color, they also became more intricate and more custom. Patches, medals, ranks and ribbons displayed varying achievement. Knight Linderman had quite a few ribbons, medals and patches on his uniform as she had observed earlier. He wore the uniform well.

Van pulled the fabric below her shoulder and pinned it parallel to the ground. He stood back to admire his work. "I'd say that's pretty straight." He gave her a smack on the arm. "Looks great on you! You should be the happiest one here. We've had this coming for a long time but you, look at you! Showing us all up with the third fastest time ever for the promotion test!"

"I have to admit, you'd probably give Knight Linderman a run for his money." Goodwin reckoned with a smirk.

Lisette waved a hand at him. "Oh, please. He'd eat my dust."

The three of them laughed.

As the evening came, the seven Senior Initiates decided to celebrate with a few drinks. Taylor brought out a few bottles of whiskeys and together, they all drank, splayed out across their bunks until their casual conversation turned into bellowing laughter and crude jokes. Everyone drank except for Lisette. She didn't want to drink; the buzz made her anxious. So instead of it turning into a negative for her, she would police them all. She would usher them back into the barracks if someone were to wander toward the exits. She laid low and out of the conversations and instead listened. She couldn't help but laugh; they were interesting conversations to say the least. But Van was determined to get her to drink. He continually handed her drinks but she would pour it into his when he was turned the other way.

"Ever wonder what it feels like to get it on with a ghoul?" Brigham asked.

Lisette cringed. "What the hell?"

Stevens giggled. "I'm sure it… it hurts like _hell_. Imagine, all those _teeth_!" he shuddered.

"Yeah! And skin would be flaking off all over the place!" Brigham laughed.

Lisette's face was contorted into a face of horror and disgust. "Have you guys never seen a ghoul? They have teeth just like we do…Or no teeth at all..."

They didn't acknowledge Lisette had said anything and continued to banter.

Van stood up from his bunk, swayed so much a bit of his drink dribbled out. He approached Lisette on the top bunk across from his. He braced himself on the railing and tried to maintain eye contact as he said, "You gotta… you gotta have some more of this, O'Brien." He hiccuped.

"I'm good, Van. I've had enough."

"You gotta… you gotta loosen up a bit. You're too… too serious." Again, he hiccuped.

"I'm good, Van." she persisted.

He shrugged. " _Okaayy_ , I just thought a pretty woman like yourself… should, should let herself go every once in awhile." He staggered back over to his bunk and flopped back down heavily.

Lisette started to get down from her bunk. Van sat up abruptly at her movement. "Where, where are you going?"

"I'm gonna go clear my head. Get some fresh air. No one leave, okay?" She exchanged looks with everyone.

" _Fresh_ air…" Taylor snorted, "Wasteland air is the farthest thing from fresh! Haha _haha_ …" his words died out into giggling.

 _Yeah, I'm definitely going to get some fresh air._

She stepped outside of their bunkhouse and onto the balcony. The night air was pleasantly dry and cool with a slight breeze creeping through the bailey. The moon and stars hid behind dusty clouds. She leaned against the stone railing and closed her eyes, taking in the environment.

The smell of stone and metal was heavily on the air and was the scent that dominated most of the Citadel. It smelled of an ancient machine, dusty yet well oiled. Her fingers found the little chevron on her chest. It's smooth surface was cold on her fingers. She didn't feel honored to be wearing this little piece of metal. Everyone else was ecstatic and Lisette was still trying to comprehend all of this. A lot had happened the past week. She managed to get into a fight, be at risk of being thrown out of the Citadel, and promoted all in the same timeframe. She hadn't seen anything of Oster since they had been separated and she was glad. The less she saw of her, the better she felt. Although, she missed the opposition. Conflict made her feel a bit more alive inside. But now she was back with her wandering mind and her mind constantly wandered back to her brother.

It had been over a month since they had been separated. A whole _month_ and she still didn't have the _slightest_ idea what had happened to him or where he ended up. She missed him… Would he proud of her? Or disappointed? He was always so adamant about keeping their distance from Brotherhood Knights, Ghouls, Raiders and Super Mutants.

Her heart grew heavy. He would have been disappointed in her…. She had done exactly what he would always warn her about… She had the overwhelming urge to sob.

Suddenly, the smell of cigarette smoke wafted through with the breeze. Down below, she saw a familiar figure coming up the many flight of stairs toward the balcony. It was Star Paladin Connelly with a lit cigarette in her hand.

Lisette wiped her eyes on her arms and straightened herself up to greet her. Her gut twisted with the many feelings that began to boil through her, anger, grief, and impatience. She hadn't seen Connelly in ages it seemed. She always seemed _so_ busy…

Connelly reached the balcony and didn't say a word. She was dressed in similar casuals as Lisette's except hers were black with dark grey trim and an elaborate gold emblem on her shoulder. Lisette glared at her and asked bitterly, "Fancy you actually being in the Citadel. You've been gone a lot."

"When you're a Star Paladin, you'll understand but right now, _Senior Initiate_ , what I do is none of your goddamn business and how I spend my time also none of your business." Connelly replied just as bitter back to Lisette. She took a long drag of her cigarette and leaned against the stone railing. Through an exhale of smoke, she said, "I've been meaning to talk to you about a lot of things. And seeing the rest of your division is drunk off their asses, I figured now would be a good time to talk to you."

"You seem to know how to pick your moments…" Lisette commented.

Connelly shrugged. "How does it feel? How does this life feel to you?"

"I hate it."

"Do you? It doesn't look that way."

"I do and I hate it more because you haven't helped me find my brother yet. All because I haven't _earned_ it. I got _promoted_. What else do I have to do to impress you?"

Connelly took another moment of silence to give her cigarette a good draw. Lisette couldn't help but feel like there was some ulterior motive happening here. There was something going on inside of Connelly's head that Lisette hadn't the slightest clue about but she wanted to know every single detail. She got the feeling that Connelly was purposefully letting time pass. But for what? Why?

Lisette continued, her voice becoming more desperate with each word, "If you're not going to help me, that's fine. I don't need your help. I can do it myself. But I want out of this hellhole. Sure, you guys have given me more than life has but that doesn't do much for me. Especially when the only thing I _really_ care about is somewhere out there and I don't know _where_ he isor _what_ happened to him."

Connelly bristled slightly before she jumped in feverishly. "Listen, I don't think you understand how things work around here. I made that promise to you and you have my word. I'm a bitter old woman but I'm not a goddamn liar. But, I have _orders_. I can't just drop everything and go out into the wasteland and try to find someone. It's not as easy as you think…"

"If you didn't have time for me, then why the hell didn't you just leave me there to die? I'm sure it would have been a lot easier on you and me." Lisette bit.

"How was I supposed to know you had baggage?" She gave a snort. "Funny a world we live in when you do a good deed and it's overshadowed by ungratefulness..."

"And besides _when_ will that be? _When_ will you help me?" Lisette asked deadpan, ignoring her comment, "how long do I have to wait?"

Connelly took the last drag of her cigarette and threw the butt on the ground, stamping it out with her boot. "Not long."

Lisette groaned.

"I'm a bitch, I know. But we're going to have to find some way to get along."

"Why? Why would I?"

Connelly's eyebrows lifted. "Because you don't have a choice. By the Elder's orders, I'm becoming your sponsor. That's primarily what I wanted to talk to you about."

Lisette felt her face flush. Damn, she forgot. Great, her least favorite person and the only person that could help her was about to be her sponsor. Whatever the hell that actually meant.

"What else is there to be said? You're my sponsor. _Woohoo_." she said, very sarcastically.

Connelly spun to face Lisette and jabbed a finger at her. "Before you start with your attitude, make sure not to piss off the only people who are keeping you here. Knight Linderman and I had to do quite a bit of fighting to keep you here."

That caught Lisette off guard. She was drawn back by what she said. But nonetheless, she kept her attitude. " _Really?_ " she asked, half-sarcastic.

"If we weren't there and if we hadn't have fought as hard as we did, you wouldn't be here. I don't think you understand how hard it is to convince a Head Scribe who already _hates_ Wastelanders that you deserve to stay under our roof. It was especially hard to convince him since you decided to duke it out with his daughter above all people..."

Connelly had a point and Lisette couldn't argue with that. So, she decided to cut the attitude - of course, only for now. She went for a candid question instead. "What do sponsors even do?"

Connelly reached into her pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. She popped off the top and offered it to Lisette silently. Lisette declined with a shake of her head and Connelly shrugged, picking one out and lighting it. "Good question. Sponsor is a very broad term. It means I'm supposed to guide you through training."

"What about Knight Linderman? Isn't he still my training officer?"

"Yes. Two days of out of the week, you and I will have the opportunity to get to know each other pretty well, whether you like it or not. The other five days, you'll be under Knight Linderman's direction."

"Oh, okay."

"Don't you worry your little head about it. You won't be separated from him for too long." Connelly jabbed with a grin.

Lisette threw her a glare. "What the hell does that mean? I was just asking."

"Uh-huh." She stood there a while, staring into the bailey, seemingly lost in thought. She finished her cigarette with haste before saying, "Tomorrow, meet me in the armory at 0800." With that, she ground her cigarette butt into the ground and left, leaving Lisette to herself again.

She couldn't imagine the kinds of things she could learn from Connelly.

 _0800, May 13, 2280, Citadel, Armory, Armor Garage_

There was always something commandingly intimidating about power armor. The way the set of armor was suspended at its shoulders in the bright yellow chassis looked like sleeping beast. With its chin to its chest and arms lax at its sides, it was a slumbering machine waiting to be brought to life.

Lisette stared up at it, examining its smooth plates and complex helmet. T-45d was what it was called. Lisette couldn't tell a difference between different variations but she was assured that there was one. She was mesmerized by its size and complexity. The helmet itself had so many different parts and resembled a very advanced gas mask. Perhaps it worked the same.

It was early and half of her division wasn't up, especially after the amount of drinking that went on the night before. She was the first one up and on her foot locker, she found a folded pair of a very unattractive orange and grey uniform, gloves and boots. Reluctantly, she dressed in them, wondering why she hadn't seen these before, and found herself to the armory. She was greeted by the very boisterous armory officer who smelled heavily of alcohol and smoke. He ran a tight ship on the armory despite his various vices.

Eventually, Connelly dressed in similar uniform and entered the "armor garage" as most called it around the Citadel. It was a section of the armory that resembled much of a what a pre-war garage would include; tools and tool boxes, power armor stations, and various adhesives, bolts, and screws. There were more than ten power armor stations divided equally on either side of a median of tables and workbenches. Nearly fifteen power armor sets sat, suspended within the chassis's like a dormant, metal army.

Connelly joined Lisette's side in front of a power armor station. She had her arms crossed over her chest as she said, "You ready to try one of these bad boys?"

Lisette's heart rammed into her throat. " _What_? No… no. Absolutely not."

"Why not? This is the part that every Initiate _lives_ for."

Lisette scoffed. "Not this Initiate…"

"You don't have a choice so listen up. This is T-45d power armor, I'm sure you already knew that, so I'll spare you the history lesson. That's what the scribes are for. It may not be the easiest thing to get around in but it sure as hell takes a punch. It allows for more strength and resists radiation pretty well thanks to the steel plates. But it's also heavy as hell but like I said, it beats standard-issue armor by a long shot. The uniform you have on is important, remember that. Without it, the power armor doesn't have any servos to connect to and won't recognize your movement. So, unless you like having weights on your arms and legs, I would suggest you keep that uniform handy."

"It won't recognize my movement?"

"Power armor's not just something you put on or plates you can attach to yourself. It's a fully functional suit that encloses you in an air-filtered, air-tight seal. But don't try going swimming, you'll sink like a fucking rock."

"Okay…"

"How about we get you into one? You'll understand what I'm talking about." Connelly pulled something from her pocket. She handed one to Lisette. It was a piece of intricate fabric, much like the suit they wore.

Connelly put it on over her head of silver hair and moved to the station just to the right of them and disappeared behind the large suit. Lisette followed and watched. With ease, Connelly turned the wheel at the back of the torso. With a satisfying exhale of pressure, the armor separated coronally and like a mechanized flower, all the plates opened, inviting someone to step inside. She grabbed onto the frame and fit herself into the shell and with another sigh, the plates engulfed her in metal. Now, Connelly stood a foot taller than she originally was. She gracefully looked down at Lisette and said through the helmet, "Now, that's not too difficult is it?"

Lisette swallowed hard. "You make it look easy."

"That's what happens when you've been doing this as long as I have." With that, she began forward with a swagger that could have only been obtained through years and years of experience. Lisette was intimidated. She _did_ make it look easy and if she knew anything, it wasn't going to be easy for her. Connelly turned back to face Lisette and with scowling eyes, she said simply, "Go ahead. Give it a shot. Turn the wheel and get inside. That's all there is to it."

Timidly, Lisette put on the hood Connelly had given her and went behind the suit she had been staring at. With surprise, she turned the wheel with ease and with a loud hiss, the armor invited her inside. Mimicking what she had seen Connelly do, she hoisted herself into the frame. As the plates closed around her, fear rushed through her. Her heart hammered into her throat and for a split second, it was dark and silent, except for the sound of her pounding heart. Then the suit whirled to life. Conditioned air blew against her entire body within the many cavities of the suit and the heads-up display came before her eyes. The HUD was a confusing display of gauges and meters that Lisette couldn't make sense of. Suddenly, she was eye to eye with Connelly who gave her a powerful slam on the shoulder.

"There you go," Connelly said, "Look around, walk around. See how it feels."

But Lisette was terrified to move. The fear was sharp in her gut, stabbing like a knife. An overwhelming fear of claustrophobia was creeping up on her. But with a deep breath, she pushed the fear aside and turned her head. Much to her surprise, it turned fluidly. She looked down at her massive metal hands and moved her fingers. The hands mimicked her motion. She was shocked at how fluidly it moved.

Then, she took a step and the metal leg abided. She took another step and again the metal abided. She was surprised on how natural it felt but at the same time so unnatural. Who would have thought some Wastelander born and raised at the mercy of the wasteland would have the opportunity to step inside a suit of power armor?

It's funny how things turn out sometimes.

"How does it feel?" Connelly prodded, a smile in her voice.

"Weird…" was the only thing Lisette could manage out. Then she said, "I can't imagine actually fighting in this thing though."

"Trust me, it will become a second skin to you."

Lisette didn't necessarily believe that.

"Just give it a chance. You'd be surprised how nice it is sometimes." Connelly added.

Lisette still wasn't convinced but decided to go along with it.

"Ready to take it out for a spin?"

With that, Connelly led her up through the armory and out to the courtyard. The morning had come and the sun came through the courtyard with its dull rays. Lisette felt oddly comfortable and uncomfortable all at the same time. The way the armor fit to her body and moved with her body was fluid and comfortable. However, she could feel the energy on her body traveling from her limbs to the armor's limbs. It made her skin itch. She felt clunky and tripped at least three times from the armory to the courtyard.

"I'm surprised you didn't fall," Connelly laughed behind her helmet, "most do."

"I almost did…"

"You have to lift your feet higher than you think you do. You're standing on two solid inches of steel. They're not your average boots."

"I figured that much out."

"Good. Want to put that suit to the test?" Connelly turned and made her way over to a crate and picked it up. From the way she tossed it up, made it look hollow. It wasn't until Connelly threw it at Lisette did she realize it _wasn't_ hollow and indeed, very heavy. When the crate collided with her, Lisette lost her balance and fell like a rock flat on her back.

Lisette laid there on her back and expelled a long breath.

Connelly walked up to her. Looking down at her, she said, "You were supposed to catch it."

"How the hell was I supposed to know that?"

Connelly offered her large hand and Lisette took it, hoisting herself up. "Pick up that crate. Test out how it feels to manipulate objects. We'll worry about weapons later."

Lisette bent over to pick up the crate and found it surprisingly light. As she found out a few moments before, it was not light. She looked at Connelly and said, "How much does this weigh?"

"I'd guess about forty or fifty pounds. Feels light, doesn't it? Just one of the many perks power armor gives you."

"I'm assuming we're not going to be testing out the radiation resistance, are we?" Lisette grinned.

Connelly gave a bitter laugh. "No. Let's go for a run." She spun on her heels and began to run. The world quaked at her every step. Her strides were easily two feet across and she covered ground quickly. The way she moved in the power armor would never cease to amaze her. She made it look so _goddamn_ easy.

Lisette took a deep breath before breaking into a run to catch up to her. Again, to her surprise, the suit felt so _natural_ despite the fact she was encased in layers of servos and steel. She felt powerful and fast. Lisette marveled at how quickly she caught up to Connelly. With every step she took, there was a slight spring and pep to it. The suit calculated the length of her steps and the weight of her to accurately cushion her foot falls and encourage her along. The suit responded and was almost alive in itself. It thought and it calculated and it carried itself weightlessly.

Lisette almost caught herself starting to like the feeling.

After a few laps around the bailey, the rest of the Citadel began to stir in their bunks, including her fellow Initiates in the bunkhouse. She spotted a few bodies standing out on the balcony, tracking her and Connelly as they lapped around the courtyard.

For a moment, she felt a sense of confidence come over her. She felt strong and powerful. And for a moment, she didn't feel like Lisette the Wastelander; she felt like O'Brien the Senior Initiate.

Maybe she could find a place to fit in after all.

 _0952, May 14, 2280, Citadel, VRT Briefing Room 1A_

Virtual Reality Training, or VRT, was a highly effective training method and Senior Knight Linderman knew it would do some good to his division. VRT with blank rounds was as close to the real thing, as he led his division to believe. VRT didn't hurt but was relatively close to the real combat. _Relatively_.

Today, Knight Linderman would begin to learn the strengths and weaknesses of his division. That's what the second tier of training was geared towards: finding out where you fit in a team, realizing your potential, and unlocking it. He had some ideas about what roles each Initiate would fall into. From the look on everyone's face, he could see the excitement. In the briefing room outside of the VRT room, he had his division, all seven members, seated before a chalkboard.

Knight Linderman took a deep breath before he started, "Before we begin today, I would like to respectfully say that I am very proud of the progress of this division. Out of the three divisions I have trained the past few years, you all have shown the most progress. And I don't say that lightly. As you know, the Brotherhood is fumbling and the only way we can steady ourselves is bringing up smart and powerful Initiates, like yourselves. With that aside, I want to make it very clear that the first tier of training is _easy_ compared to the next tier you are about to begin." The excitement from his division's face became more somber. He continued, "You will question yourself. You will find out a lot of things that you wish you hadn't. This is the tier that separates the Initiates from the Knights. Your life thus far has been very padded compared to the life you're about to realize. Take it from someone who was once in your shoes before."

He looked at O'Brien. She had her arms crossed over her chest. Her face said it all. His words weren't phasing her and he expected that. She had been through a great deal and had already witnessed the Wasteland in all its brutality. The looks on her comrades faces however were much more afraid. Linderman swallowed roughly.

Then a thought crossed his mind. For a moment, he was afraid for his division. The weight of the Brotherhood's status was finally hitting home. These were good men, capable of becoming amazing additions to the Knighthood. But he listened… he knew the Brotherhood's odds weren't looking good. The Wasteland was closing in on them with the Super Mutants constantly knocking at their front door, and with the Brotherhood not working towards any progress as an organization, Linderman didn't want to see these good men go to waste. He had to continually remind himself that it was not his job to worry about things like that. However, as much as Linderman hated it, his division was about to begin a journey toward an unknown future.

He picked up a piece of chalk from the chalkboard behind him and began, "Your objective today is going to be finding out where you individually fall into the team. You all are a _team_. I can't stress that enough. The second you forget that is the second you fall apart. But part of being a team is understanding where you fall and how you make the team function. I've been studying you all throughout the first tier of training. From what I've gathered, I have some suggestions. I would like to call out a particular Initiate who has proven to me that they are more than accomplished to be today's team commander." He wrote on the chalkboard: _Commander - Goodwin_.

His division clambered excitedly. Goodwin had a smile from ear to ear. O'Brien had a wide smile on her face too. Knight Linderman couldn't help but give a small smile. "You've earned it, Senior Initiate."

"Thank you, Knight." Goodwin thanked. The two Initiates on either side gave him a good smack on the back in celebration.

"You will be calling the shots today. A lot of responsibility falls on your shoulders but I'm confident you can handle it. The rest of you are under his command for this exercise," A new sense of pride arose on Initiate Goodwin's face. "The VRT task today is to retrieve a package from the enemy base and return it to your base. Simple. How you structure your arsenal and people is completely up to the commander. Also keep in mind, the rate at which time passing in VRT is no different than real time. However long it takes you to retrieve the package, the longer you stay there. You are automatically disconnected if you sustain too many injuries. The VRT task will be completed once you have retrieved the package and returned it, or you all die. Hopefully that won't happen." As he explained, he illustrated onto the chalkboard. "You have your briefing. You have your commander. Go through the door behind you and enter the VRT lab. Good luck. You're dismissed."

With that, his division stood from their seats and orderly exited the briefing room into the VRT lab. For a moment, Knight Linderman felt a very satisfying feeling. Soon, he would begin to incorporate self-efficiency within his division until the day he longer needed to command them. He was confident Initiate Goodwin was the best choice. All of the Initiates seemed to have a higher respect to him compared to everyone else and he always upheld standards and seemed to be on top of making sure everyone else was doing the same. He knew the rest would follow in line and individually fall into their own places.

Then he thought about O'Brien. She knew the Wasteland, better than all the other Initiates and arguably better than he did himself. However, how she would fare in combat would be a different story. Survival skills and luck didn't necessarily hint to good combat skills as well.

Today would be an interesting training exercise to say the least.

 _1004, May 14, 2280, Citadel, VRT Lab_

Lisette had some reserves about laying down inside of an egg-shaped pod with a single chair inside of it. She had never imagined anything like "virtual reality". As Van had explained to her, it was the equivalent of falling asleep and waking up in a new place, like a dream. Except in the dream you are in full control over your thoughts and actions. It gave her the chills thinking about it. She wouldn't consider herself claustrophobic but as she stared at the pod before her, she had a creeping fear beginning in her gut.

Van gave her a nudge on the shoulder, which threw her out of her fearful trance. "You're looking at it like it's gonna eat you, O'Brien." He laughed, "It's not going to."

Lisette swallowed. "I know…"

"The less you think about it, the better. Just get inside. It's simple. Watch." Van mounted the steps of the VR pod next to hers and sat down in the chair. He exhaled, putting his arms behind his head. "See? Not so bad!"

"Easy for you to say…"

As the rest of the division mounted their VR pods, Lisette slowly started into hers. Her heart rammed into her throat and her stomach churned uneasily. She sat down slowly, her breath held. She looked over to Van who was intently watching her. He gave her an earnest smile. "You're fine! Don't have that look on your face!" he called.

The Proctor who oversaw the VR lab called last warning to enter before the loud hissing began to emanate from different points of the lab. Eventually, the glass of Van's pod began to close around him and his chair slowly flattened. "See you on the other side!" he called as it closed around him.

And then the glass in Lisette's pod began to envelope her. Her hands gripped the arms of the chair as the chair slowly leaned backward. A visor came around her eyes as the chair flattened. And then, there was silence.

Darkness and her pounding heart.

She closed her eyes, certain she would faint from fear.

And suddenly, it was day. Lisette opened her eyes, dumbfounded. She was standing in the middle of a decaying building. The roof had long fallen through and the remnants of three floors were staggered along the upward frame of the building. She was alone with a laser rifle in her hands. She could _feel_ the slight breeze against her face and dust in her eyes. It was strange… suddenly, she was back in the Capital Wasteland. A deep and dormant fear began to well up inside of her. She remembered the fear, the hunger, the thirst associated with this harsh land. And she remembered her brother. Her mind rambled on about finding her brother and she half expected him to be standing beside her… But he wasn't. Her gut hurt.

" _Hey!_ O'Brien!" a familiar voice echoed through the ruins. She turned to see Van coming toward her with a laser rifle of his own. "We gotta go! Objective's this way!"

Without any thought, she pushed out all of the horrible memories that had began to flood her brain and followed him. They started down a desolate street, howling with wind, riddled with empty vehicles. He turned into the front doors of a business building and in the foyer where the rest of her division was. A circular reception desk was the center of the room. The room was void of windows and the dirty floor was scattered with weapon and ammo crates and medical supplies. O'Brien and Van approached the desk which contained a radio and a deactivated terminal. Sutton had the guts of the radio spilled out on the desk as he fiddled with the innards.

Goodwin cleared his throat and addressed everyone, "We know what our objective is. This is our base, the location we need to return the package to."

"Okay… but where is this package? Do we even know what it looks like?" Stevens asked bitterly.

"No, that's part of it. We're supposed to figure that out." Goodwin replied steadily.

Stevens scoffed. "Lovely…"

"What? Did you expect this to be easy? Knight Linderman isn't about making things easy on us…" Taylor put in.

"Of course not. But I thought we'd at least have some intel to tell us something. _Anything_." Stevens said.

"No." Goodwin said.

"Well, go ahead, _Commander_ , pave the way!"

"What's the attitude for, Stevens?" Van bit, "Knock it off…"

Stevens scoffed before walking away from the group, toward a darker corner to brood.

"The longer we sit here and bicker at each other, the long it takes for us to get that package. So how about we just shut the hell up and let Goodwin figure out our next moves, alright?" Taylor said and after no one said a word, he added, "Good. Commander?"

Goodwin had his hand at his mouth. He was deep in thought. "If I were to hide a package, I would hide it deep within somewhere. I would have it heavily guarded and fortified. So we can expect some heavy resistant. We need to locate somewhere that looks busy." He awoke from his muse and looked at Van and then Brigham, addressing them both, "How about you two show us how good you are at reconnaissance?"

A smile came across both of their faces and they complied willingly. They immediately found themselves long-ranged rifles and ammo. Goodwin handed them small ear buds. "Use these to communicate with us. We'll hear you loud and clear over these radio here. Once Sutton fixes it." Goodwin gave the hunched over Initiate a pat on the back.

"I've almost got it…" Sutton mused quietly.

"You got it, Commander." Brigham confirmed before gesturing at Van to follow. They exited the base hastily, leaving the rest of the division in silence. Stevens was leaned up against a wall with his arms folded tightly over his chest. As the rest of the division found something to busy themselves with, Lisette decided she would give Stevens hell for being an asshole to Goodwin.

Stevens was a good looking guy by Lisette's standard with short cropped black hair and strong facial features. But his eyes were always piercing and judging you. He was easily the most perpetually pissed member in their division, only after Oster was given the boot, of course. But, Lisette liked to push his buttons. She liked the challenge.

"What, Stevens? Upset you didn't get that Commander position?" Lisette jabbed with a smirk.

"Shut up, O'Brien. Like you give a shit." Stevens hit back.

Lisette leaned up against the wall next him, matching his stance. "I guess you don't have any trust in Knight Linderman's judgement."

He just shook his head.

"I'm sure you'll get another chance to prove yourself. He's just for today, remember?" She nudged him. "Lighten up a little bit. If it makes you feel any better, I was scared like the little girl I am to get into the VR pod."

Stevens gave a short laugh. "Yep. Sounds like you alright... Scared little girl."

She laughed too, ending the conversation with a pat on the back. He was tough but Lisette figured she could break through that to get him a little easier to deal with.

"O'Brien," Goodwin called from across the room, where he was rummaging through a weapons crate.

Lisette joined him. He pulled out a laser pistol and turned to address her. "I remember you being pretty good with one of these." Goodwin said, handing it over to her. She tested the weight of it in her hand.

"I'm the best shot here with one. The only person that maybe could beat me is Van." Lisette said.

Goodwin gave a weak smile. "Good. Take it as secondary weapon. When recon gets back to us on where we're going, you'll be support. The pistol's just in case we get a little too close than we want to."

"Got it."

Suddenly, the radio on the counter came to life with static and the familiar voice of Van. " _Forward base, are you reading me?_ "

Sutton gave a soft laugh before tucking the wiring back into the radio's body. Goodwin joined Sutton at the radio.

Goodwin had a finger to his ear and he replied anxiously, "This is forward base, we're reading you Van, go ahead." Everyone gathered around the radio attentively listening for the reply.

After a brief silence, the reply came: " _About half a mile northwest of you is a parking garage. Super mutants are crawling all over it. Is this our point of interest?_ "

"Affirmative. That has to be it. Any idea about entry?"

A brief silence and then: " _I have no idea. But my best guess is -"_ Suddenly the feed cut.

Everyone bristled and Goodwin swallowed. "Van." Silence. "Brigham. Come in."

The radio crackled once before two words came through the static urgently: _get down_ and an eruption of static.

All eyes were on Goodwin who had a blank, terrified look on his face. Lisette's stomach knotted. She knew this was VR but it felt too real. The silence was heavy around them.

"Let's go. Grab your gear and let's head out. _Move_." Goodwin commanded.

The division scrambled for the nearest rifle and ammo and filed out of the base with Goodwin in the lead. Lisette was close behind Goodwin. Her heart was hammering in her chest and her stomach filled with icy adrenaline. Adrenaline and fear was something Lisette had become very close to. Life in the Wasteland had taught her that but this was a different type of fear… a different type of adrenaline. This time, it wasn't her and her brother against unknown odds. It was her and her teammates, big, able men. Maybe she was misinterpreting the fear as excitement.

They could hear the gunfire in the near distance and they all broke into a run, guns ready. Northwest was all their direction. They didn't have a good idea of where to go so they were going to follow the gunfire and from the sounds of it, it wasn't a good sign for Brigham and Van.

It wasn't long before they too were under fire as they approached the point of interest. Bullets and plasma volleyed from all directions and they all scattered. Lisette was cowering behind a concrete barricade, while gunfire hailed all around her. She was frozen in place, gripping the laser rifle in her hands, her eyes sealed shut. She heard a few others in her division scream and heard Goodwin yell, " _Regroup!_ Where is everyone!"

Then the next thing Lisette knew, she was being hoisted from where she was by her neck. A massive green hand gripped her with a strength that terrified her to her core. She screamed and choked against the hand, staring into it's evil yellow eyes as it laughed mercilessly.

" _Found you!_ " It bellowed.

Then she was thrown forward. When she hit the ground, pain shot through her but it didn't feel like pain she remembered but it hurt nonetheless. All of the air was thrust from her lungs and her limbs went numb. She heaved for air. The horrible green monster lumbered towards her, sledgehammer at the ready.

Then a loud crack sounded, and the Super Mutant's head exploded into a pulpy mess and it fell lifeless to the ground. Lisette scrambled up, grabbing her laser rifle from the ground and resumed her position behind the concrete barricade. She took a deep breath, silently thanking whoever had saved her.

She peeked around the barricade and spotted a Super Mutant returning fire, facing a different direction. She brought up her rifle and fired three shots at it in quick succession. Two missed but the first one caught it right in the shoulder. It yowled in pain before spinning in her direction and spotting her.

" _Human!"_ It roared and charged at her.

Again, she squeezed off two more shots before it dropped dead.

She popped the energy cell with a hiss and shoved another in its place.

Her eyes darted around as she desperately searched for her teammates. As silence fell onto the battleground, her fear began to mount. She didn't see anyone. Only a few Super Mutants hulking around, seeking their next victim.

An invisible hand gripped her throat and her hands began to sweat beneath her gloves.

She was alone. She didn't feel a single soul alive around her. Had everyone died? She couldn't believe it… Only a few minutes had passed and all hell had broken loose.

Lisette desperately missed her brother. She could almost feel his presence among the wreckage around her, like an echo amongst the stone. He was good with a rifle and a pretty good shot too. And he did all the shooting. He protected her and shielded her from it all. But now, she was without her brother and the one with the rifle. She resisted the urge to sob.

Then suddenly, there was a noise behind her. A footstep.

She whirled around, weapon raised. Van was at the end of her rifle with a single finger to his lips. He hunkered down beside her. Sweat rolled down his face and he was paled, as if he had seen a ghost. "Oh my god, O'Brien," he whispered, breathless, "I thought you were gonna get _smashed_ by that Super Mutant!"

"Did you shoot it?" Her voice barely came from her throat.

He nodded.

She returned the nod, a silent thank-you. They were both overwhelmed and afraid.

"Where is everyone?" she whispered.

He shrugged. "I don't know… I think they're all dead…" The gravity of what he said hit Lisette hard in the chest.

"What are we gonna do?" She looked at him.

His eyes were wide and glossy. He was just as terrified as she was. She had never seen so much raw fear on someone's face. But there was another look in his eyes… Something she had never seen before. He brought his face close to hers and his gloved hand found her own. Lisette was frozen in place, unsure of what was about to happen.

And then, a giant hand had plucked her from the ground and held her with its death grip. All of the life seeped from her and she screamed.

Lisette woke, gasping and choking.

She was back in reality.

A massive headache began to throb at her temple and she laid back, exhausted. For a while, she laid there, letting her pounding heart return to normal. Her hand touched her face and her skin was tingling, as if it were electrified. The air around her was stiflingly still.

But her brain raced and the image of Van staring at her with those glossy eyes, hand in hers, burned into her memory. Her mouth went dry as her mind began to wonder what had come over him. She couldn't believe he had looked at her and touch her in that way.

The pod's lid clicked and with a hiss, lifted upward to release her. She sat up and climbed out of the pod, desperately wanting to get as far away from that thing as she could. The sickening feeling that followed her out of the pod was suffocating. Her chest and head _hurt_.

Van climbed out of his own pod and he didn't look at her.

The rest of the division silently emerged from their pods.

At the head of the room stood Knight Linderman and the Proctor. The Proctor was speaking vehemently to Knight Linderman who nodded, listening. The division all looked onto the pair for some sort of guidance. They were all exhausted and deflated and their excitement from earlier was long gone.

Eventually, Knight Linderman discovered his division looking longingly at him and he then addressed them, "Get some lunch, Senior Initiates. Debriefing will be at 1400."

 _1400, May 14, 2280, Citadel, VRT Debriefing Room 1A_

Senior Knight Linderman's division sat before him and they were exhausted, he could see it in their faces. Despite nearly four hours had passed since they had finished the VRT lab, they still looked as if all of the life had been drained from them. He was partially to blame for that. Abrupt disconnection from the VRT could have that effect. But the situation was spiraling out of control too quickly, much quicker than he had originally anticipated. But they were naive and inexperienced and VRT wasn't even a fraction of what it was like doing it for real. There were no do-overs. Once you were dead, that was it.

He cleared his throat, gathering their attention and looked down at his clipboard, wondering where he should start. Judging by the looks on their faces, they couldn't have cared less. They wanted rest. But Linderman needed to instruct them.

"You all preformed as I expected… Solid beginning but once the action started, it fell apart," he paced in front of them as he spoke, "from this exercise, I was clearly able to see the team dynamic," he singled out Goodwin with his eyes, "Senior Initiate Goodwin, being a team commander is not easy and you handled it well," then he singled out Stevens with a piercing glare, "I don't care if you weren't happy with who I selected as commander, Senior Initiate Stevens. If you can't respect my appointment, then we have a problem. I don't tolerate behavior like that. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir!" he replied.

Linderman gave a nod before continuing, "There's a reason I only gave you the objective and little guidance and the reason for that is because the best way to learn is by trial and error. Since you are all privileged with VRT, you can use that system of learning. I've held your hands through most of your training and now, I'm letting you walk and run on your own. As a team, you need to learn how to communicate accurately, create plans and execute them properly. None of you did either of those things, which is why only two of you remained at the end of the simulation." He looked at O'Brien, "Senior Initiate O'Brien, tell us all what it felt like to be grabbed and thrown around by a Super Mutant."

All eyes were on O'Brien. She avoided the many eyes that were suddenly on her and replied quietly, "It was horrifying…"

Linderman looked at Sutton, "Senior Initiate Sutton, tell us all what it felt like to be trampled and gored with a metal pipe." All eyes shifted to Sutton.

Sutton, like O'Brien avoided the eyes that were on him. He replied, "It was horrible, sir."

"VRT is not meant to scare you. It's meant to provide an example of what you may encounter outside these walls. It's not scary if it's reality. The Wasteland and all its creatures are ruthless. They won't spare you as I did today. The sooner you realize that, the more prepared you will be." He paused, allowing that to sink in before continuing, "You had direction. You all found the location of the package but you weren't able to get far enough to retrieve it. Having a plan on how to accomplish the task at hand is important. But what's more important is to be adaptative. In a situation like today, things go haywire quickly. There was no room for adapting to the circumstances. It was just reaction after reaction and eventually its results caught up with you." He felt like he was talking to a brick wall but he knew they were listening. But he wanted to make sure his words hit home.

He called them to. They erupted from their chairs and came to attention. "Initiates, I don't want you to become discouraged! This is only the beginning to a long journey ahead. I have complete confidence in every single one of you. I've never doubted that for a moment. Is that understood, Initiates?"

" _Yes sir!_ " They chorused.

"This is not easy, but it is imperative that you understand the gravity of your position. Find the courage inside of you to try harder than you ever have before! Courage and valiance will take you far. As Brothers of Steel, we fight for the Brotherhood! Is that understood, Initiates?"

" _Yes sir!_ " They chorused, louder this time.

"Tomorrow morning we will begin power armor training. Get some rest, Initiates. You are dismissed." And with that, they saluted their training commander and fell out of formation, and departed the debriefing room in silence.

That left the Knight standing there with only the heavy silence that came over the concrete room. He gathered his items and found his way to his office for some downtime. He spent several hours alone, typing away on his terminal and preparing lessons for the next day's training.

Before he knew it, it was dinner time and he was pretty hungry since he had skipped lunch. He took a clipboard to the mess hall to continue his work. Once he entered the mess hall around 1800, his Initiates were already at the buffet line, getting their meals. He received a tray of his own and found a table in a quiet corner of the mess hall.

His tray contained a section filled with chunks of meat in a rich brown gravy, another section filled with a mound of grain, and another filled with an assortment fruit preserved in a sugary syrup. The mess hall's food wasn't gourmet but it was substantial and filled the stomach. He began to eat, looking over the clipboard he had brought with him.

He ate and finished his meal in silence, occasionally glancing over to a table where his Initiates were seated together. They too ate their meal in silence, conversation sparse. They would be rested in the morning, besides, power armor training is what every Initiate lives for.

After dinner had been served, the mess hall officer proceeded to clean up his buffet line. The Initiates finished their meals and departed for their bunkhouse. However, O'Brien stayed behind to assist the mess hall officer in clean up. She had nearly completed her hours of mess hall duty. In fact, she had one more day to go before she was done. He hadn't heard any complaints from the mess hall officer about her assistance so that must have been good.

However, he didn't get up and return to his office. He remained in the mess hall and watched O'Brien clean tables and chat away with the mess hall officer. Her hair had been shaved short again, so short her scalp was peaking beneath her black hair. Less hair means less maintenance. Once Initiates cleared for Knighthood, they could decide to have their hair in whatever fashion they wanted. Knight Linderman preferred to have more hair than most but he kept it clean.

He sat and looked at her and _really_ looked at her. She had filled out her frame and the bones at her elbows and shoulders were less protruding than before. Her face was less sunken and more full and round. Her muscles and curves were defined and ample. She, frankly, looked very healthy. When she had first begun training, he wasn't sure how well physically she would fare but with a generous three meals a day, good sleep and proper exercise; she was proving to be very able.

She was unaware of his eyes. He could only see her profile but she had a remarkable smile. The way her lips curled and her eyes even smiled... Her expressions were genuine and content. She really was…

Linderman stopped himself and tore his gaze away from her and back to his clipboard. How embarrassing it would have been if she had caught him looking at her the way he had been. His gut twisted in a way he hadn't felt in a very long time. He had to stop himself.

It was only a few minutes later when he looked up yet again but this time, he caught gaze with her. She was approaching him with a soapy rag in her hand and a slight smile on her face. "You do realize everyone else is gone, right?" she asked sarcastically.

Why had he stayed there? Why had he? He had to remind himself and… he didn't know why. Something was compelling him to stay, though he wasn't sure what. But he soon realized he just wanted to talk to her so he decided he would be frank. "I wanted to speak with you." He said finally.

One of her black eyebrows arched in question. "Okay? About what?"

"Sit down," He offered the seat across from him. She took it, tossing the rag into the table. He continued, "What did you think of VRT? Is it realistic enough?"

Her eyes darted away from his own and she scratched her cheek. He sensed there was something running through her head. He had some ideas but decided he would refrain from prodding. Finally, she replied, "It's definitely realistic. Reminds me of… well, before all of this. It's made me really appreciate the safety and security here. Everyone else is taking it a lot harder than I am. It's not anything that I haven't seen or experienced before though. It just… brought back a lot of bad memories."

"It's an eye opener for most Initiates," he said, "the Wasteland is a nasty place and the only way to safely introduce that is VRT."

"It's weird because…" she began, disregarding what he had said. He watched as her face fell and assumed a more grimer look, "I always had my brother beside me and me being there trying to do the shooting felt backwards…" her head dropped, "what I would do to see him again…"

That's when Linderman suddenly remembered the conversation he had with Star Paladin Connelly. He remembered her saying that making the promise of finding her brother was the only way she could get O'Brien to conform. The more he thought about that, the more wrong and evil it sounded. And the more he began to believe that it was a lie. He saw the sadness on O'Brien's face when she recalled her brother. He saw the hurt and found himself desperately wanting to fix it… even though he knew it was not his place.

"I'm sure he's okay. If you two managed to survive this long on your own, he's okay." he assured her with solidarity. It was all he could say. She lifted her head and looked at him with scanning eyes and a slight smile creeping onto her lips.

"Look at you trying to be a cheerleader." she laughed dryily.

He shrugged. "I care about the wellness of my trainees." The way the words came out made it sound very unconvincing that it was his motive. And her face reflected that uncertainty with a smirk.

"Uh-huh." she said.

Linderman decided he would change the subject, less personal and more professional. "Star Paladin Connelly informed me that you two got started on power armor training. How do you like it?" he asked.

"It's alright. Weird as hell," she replied, "I'm figuring it's one of those things that takes practice to get used to."

"Yes, it definitely does. It becomes a second skin after a while."

"How long did it take you to get so good at it?" she prodded with a sly grin, "You make it look so natural."

He felt his face burn and he didn't know why. They're talking about power armor, not flirting. _Get ahold of yourself, Erik…_ he thought to himself. "Well, it's been about seven years. I started when I was eighteen. It came easily to me."

She gave a small laugh before she gave him one last curt nod and resumed her cleaning. She wiped his table down and said, "You're really bad at small talk." With that, she turned and joined the mess hall officer at the buffet line.

 _Bad at small talk?_ Linderman didn't know what she meant by that... He wasn't trying to small talk with her. Or was he?

He didn't dwell on it, but rather pushed it to the back of his mind. He gathered his things and found his way back to his office to continue his work.

 _0830, May 15, 2280, Citadel, Armory, Armor Garage_

The following morning, Lisette and her rest of his division were restlessly residing in the armor garage. They were all dressed in similar attire, the familiar orange servo-suits that Lisette had worn a few days prior. The entire division stood around, admiring the many suits of armor around them. It wasn't new to Lisette but the rest of her division chattered to one another excitedly. Van and Goodwin stood on either side of Lisette as the trio admired a tall suit of armor in front of them, lifelessly suspended in its chassis.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Goodwin remarked with a lustrous smile.

"Beautiful _and_ deadly." Van added, "these things make you like those superheroes in those pre-war comic books we read sometimes. Fast, strong and powerful."

"They're weird." Lisette jumped in.

The two men gave her an incredulous look for her offbeat comment. "Weird?" Goodwin asked, "why are they weird?"

"I've already been in one so I know what it's like."

" _What?_ How?" Van demanded.

"Star Paladin Connelly showed me how to get into one the other day. It's weird but still pretty cool."

Van shook his head, "You and Star Paladin Connelly... She's always given me the heebie-jeebies. Something about her eyes makes you think she's gonna accuse you of breaking some sort of rule you've never heard of. I wouldn't want to be her friend..."

"Well, Van, when you've been in the Brotherhood for over twenty years, I'm sure you wouldn't be all cheerful and bubbly either..." Goodwin said.

"I guess I'm more surprised that she's actually sponsoring you. I'm sure she's got loads to do being a Star Paladin." Van added, disregarding Goodwin's sarcastic remark.

Lisette replied, "You and me both. I don't know why she even bothers with me half the time."

That's when all attention was brought to the entryway of the armor garage as Senior Knight Linderman entered. As he strode in, Lisette couldn't help but stare at him. She remembered their conversation from the day prior and remembered the way he looked at her and spoke to her. There was something different in his eyes, something she couldn't quite place and was almost too scared to try and figure out. She didn't mind poking fun at him and making him feel just a little uncomfortable. But she was just poking fun at him the other day, right? Somehow, she had to convince herself that it was the truth. But, she had to admit, as he strode in dressed in a similar orange servo suit, she couldn't help but admire his figure. He was a very well put-together man with broad shoulders and full muscles. His eyes scanned over her and she immediately averted her eyes. _Lisette, don't you even start thinking like that… especially not about him_. She pushed the thoughts into the back her mind.

"Good morning, Senior Initiates!" he called to his division to him with a beckon. "Form up!" The division fell into formation, like pieces fitting into a puzzle, easy and quick. They stood at attention, waiting for direction.

"Today, we will begin our first lesson in power armor training. Power armor has proven itself to be an extremely effective tool to the Brotherhood, especially in combat. It's what completes our image. Power armor allows for increased strength and radiation resistance. Not only that, it also enables you to take up more damage without sustaining any personal injuries. Knights that have the privilege to take power armor into battle are impervious to foes and provide an upper hand in any situation. When you become a Knight someday, you will receive your own suit of power armor, personally tailored to your stature. Senior Initiates, I will only say this once, these suits are for general use only and for us, training purposes. By no means will I or anyone else in the Citadel, catch any of you stealing these suits and going for a joy ride, is that understood?"

" _Yes_ , sir!" the division chorused.

"Good. I've never had that problem before but there's always a first for everything… Before we begin, I want to bring attention to the suits you are wearing. They're servo suits. If you don't wear it, the power armor won't recognize your body movements. Always wear this suit if you are going to be in power armor. Now, the way you will enter the power armor is from the back. There is a wheel that you will turn and release the plates. They will open enough for you to get inside and once you're inside, it will enclose around you. Got it? Fall out."

And with that the division dispersed and went to the various suits of power armor around them. Lisette was joined by Van who nudged her playfully, "Ready for this? Try not to chicken out this time."

Lisette couldn't help but remember what had happened in VRT, or what almost happened, between herself and Van. Her mind had been running wild about him and what he had intended to do. She remembered his eyes, his hand on hers, and his approaching face. Eventually, she had decided to chock it up to raging adrenaline. She didn't have any interest in him whatsoever, not like that. Granted, he had been nice to her but she saw him as more of a good, dare she say, friend. But nothing more.

She scoffed. "Oh, I should be saying that to you! I know how these suits work and like I said, they're weird."

Without much thought, Lisette recalled her training from a few days prior with Star Paladin Connelly and hopped into the suit of armor with ease. The suit enveloped her and it came to life. Conditioned, metallic air filled the narrow cavities between her skin and the suit and gave her a slight chill. Van watched her with wide eyes.

Her voice came filtered through the helmet, "Easy enough." she said.

" _Wow_ ," Van swallowed hard, "you make that look easy…"

"Oh come on, VRT is _way_ scarier than this. Give it a shot!"

Van approached the posterior side of the suit of armor to her right. As he fumbled behind it with the wheel, she took a step forward and then another, and then looked at the rest of her division. They were all fumbling with their suits of armor, and a few, Stevens mainly, glared at her in envy before calling out, "O'Brien's not even from here and she's outdoing all of us." He gave a caustic grin before clambering into his own suit.

Knight Linderman had already gotten into his own suit and approached her with a purposeful stride. She squared off with him and he addressed her with a good smack on the shoulder. "Looks like you've got it down, O'Brien. Good job. One less Initiate to teach." With that, he continued past her and began to help Sutton who was struggling with the wheel on his suit.

Eventually, after a few minutes, the entire division was outfitted and the armory garage was dominated by eight, hulking individuals. The air was electric and everyone, beside O'Brien, nervously moved around in their suits, mesmerized by the way it felt around them. It truly was a feeling like none other. It made you feel powerful and unstoppable and that was something Lisette was becoming more and more comfortable with.

Knight Linderman led the division up to the bailey for some more room. Once there, he allowed them to test out whatever they wanted to and for the first time, he told them to _have fun_. And the division did just that. With a newfound energy, the division moved, ran, and jumped, testing their abilities. Lisette, Goodwin and Van were standing together, tossing around a rubber ball, attempting to tune their dexterity.

"It's like this thing has a mind of it's own!" Goodwin cried as he expertly caught the ball before tossing it to Van who did the same.

"You were right, O'Brien, this thing really is weird." Van said.

"What did I tell you!" she laughed, "weirdest thing I've ever done, that's for sure. And I'm from the Wasteland so that should say something."

"Can you believe we'll be able to go out into battle with these things? I honestly can't imagine fighting in one…" Goodwin said.

"Me neither, but I would definitely appreciate the hell out of it. If this thing would take the bullets instead of my own body, I'm forever thankful. It means less dying." Van replied.

"Someday, we'll be gallant Knights of Steel, fighting for the good of the Wasteland!" Goodwin gave a hearty laugh, "Knight Harvey Goodwin… _ahh_ , that sounds _so_ nice doesn't it?"

The trio laughed and continued to toss the rubber ball to one another.

Never in a million years did Lisette ever think she would be in the middle of the safest part of the Wasteland, in power armor, and tossing around a rubber ball to two people she could safely call her friends. All of what had happened in the past month had been surreal. Every time Lisette laid in her bunk for bed, she imagined she would wake up the next morning to the desolate Wasteland around her. Instead, however, she would wake up to concrete walls and a bunk above her. She had taken an opportunity that people only _dreamed_ of and somehow, it had all fallen into place just right… all at the cost of her brother. Her hopes of finding him were diminishing and going fast. She was beginning to come to terms with the idea that her brother really was dead and there was nothing she could do to fix that. She had done a lot of crying late at night about it but now she was starting to realize that maybe her life here as a Sister of Steel was right for her.

She had made up her mind.

She would fully embrace the Brotherhood and become one of them.

 _1542, May 15, 2280, Citadel, Laboratory_

After what seemed like ages, Elder Dimitri finally had a lead on the stolen T-51b armor and he was ecstatic. Star Paladin Connelly reported that traders had seen a suit of unusual power armor making its way to one of the largest trading hubs in the Capital Wasteland, Wakefield. He hadn't heard much of Wakefield, only that it was between Andale and what remained of Fairfax and was predominantly a Wastelander settlement. From what he could gather, traders had somehow managed to get a hold of it and someone was going to be rich selling that suit.

Elder Dimitri knew there was only one option: intercept it, apprehend it before it could be sold and moved again. But he didn't want to send Star Paladin Connelly alone, he wanted a team to extract it. However, he needed men he could trust on the job. The name that continued to come to his mind was Senior Knight Linderman. But he was busy training his division and it would take a dire situation to remove him from that.

He liked the Senior Knight. He had proven himself well during the disciplinary hearing and he trained his Initiates well, despite what the Head Scribe had said in regards to him. Initiates would be Initiates; there was no way around that. However, it had been well over a week since the hearing and all seemed well. And it was especially so since there was a new lead on the armor's location.

Elder Dimitri examined the large map in the laboratory and found the coordinates of Wakefield. As expected, it was almost directly between Andale and Fairfax. It was directly west of the Citadel and from the looks of it, wouldn't be too far to travel on foot, about half a day at the most. His only reserve about the location of Wakefield was its proximity to Fort Independence, the headquarters of the Brotherhood Outcasts. It had been four years since the Outcasts had split from the Brotherhood and Elder Dimitri was glad they kept to themselves. Those who split had their focus on preserving pre-war technology, a goal that the Brotherhood still upheld but not to the extent the Outcasts took it. They had no interest in eradicating the Super Mutants, despite the FEV virus being an absurd misuse of technology in itself, and they especially had no interest in anyone but themselves. Elder Dimitri had witnessed the schism when under Elder Lyons and it had been a relatively peaceful split.

Despite little Outcast activity detected, Elder Dimitri still didn't feel entirely comfortable with the thought that their headquarters was only a few miles away from Wakefield. He wondered if the settlement encountered the Outcasts often and he hoped, for their sake, it was minimal.

He, unfortunately, didn't have a choice. If anything, a team needed to be sent immediately to ensure the armor's safety. He hoped that the Outcasts didn't stick their noses in the direction of Wakefield because it was almost certain that they would take the opportunity to snag a fully-preserved suit of T-51b armor.

Again, he found himself asking the same question: _who_ would he send? How many men would he send? He knew he ought to send Star Paladin Connelly but who else would she willingly work with? She was incredibly independent and preferred a lone-wolf approach above all else. But to Elder Dimitri, it was a good way to get yourself killed. He never understood why she liked it that way.

Then, he figured he would consult with the Head Scribe, or at least give him the pleasure of knowing that Star Paladin Connelly finally had some good news. His trust in her was dwindling and understandably so. It would be a good thing to hear.

It had been a few days since he had one-on-one contact with the Head Scribe and after his behavior at the disciplinary hearing, he had kept his mouth shut and himself out of the spotlight. Elder Dimitri didn't refrain from letting the Head Scribe know how incredibly childish and unprofessional he had been after the hearing. In fact, he had spent nearly half an hour explaining to him why he was so ridiculous. Yes, he had bias since one of the individual's in question was his daughter but in order for him to make a decisive judgement, he had to remove that bias. And he didn't do that. But he knew that the Elder was right and that he was in the wrong, and like a hurt animal, he refrained from showing himself around the Citadel.

The Head Scribe had confined himself to his office in the meantime and as the Elder came to it, he gave the door a buzz. A few seconds passed with no answer. He didn't think much of it so he buzzed again. And again. Nothing. It wasn't unusual for the Head Scribe to take afternoon naps. But he figured after three buzzes, he would wake up. After a fourth attempt with no response, he reached into his robe pocket and pulled out a master keycard.

When Elder Dimitri opened the door, the Head Scribe was seated at his desk, face down, not moving. Maybe he was napping. When he approached the desk, there was a metallic smell in the air.

 _Blood_.

Hurriedly, he shook the Head Scribe. He was stiff and cold. And when he lifted his head, blood spilled from his mouth and his eyes were glossed over. His abdomen was a bloody mess.

He was dead.


End file.
